


Skinny Love

by dreamersshouldknowbetter



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Parental Abuse, Slow Burn, aka penelope blossom has always been trash and continues to be trash, bughead but in a minor way, sweetvee but in a minor way, veronica is a bit of a villain so if you're a veronica stan this might not be for you, way too many repressed emotions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-05-29 18:16:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 33,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15078863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamersshouldknowbetter/pseuds/dreamersshouldknowbetter
Summary: He’d heard once that she was all fire – dangerous, scorching, and destructive to everything in her path. And now, with her fingers searing their prints across his biceps and her lips flaming across his neck, he knew he wouldn’t have it any other way.If Cheryl was fire, Archie was looking to get burned.





	1. who you are (is not where you've been)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there! Thank you for opening my fic!!!
> 
> This story has been a long time coming, and I cannot thank @elegantmoonchild over on tumblr enough for the support and advice she gave me as we worked to bring it together. It's my first time diving into a couple other than Bughead, and I would have never taken the plunge without her.
> 
> A few notes before you get started reading:
> 
> 1\. This fic is canon divergent, meaning I tried to stay honest to as much canon as I could, but I did throw away a few things (mostly because I started working on this before season two was complete). The main things I excluded are the return of Cheryl's secret uncle, her mother's business with Hiram, and her joining of The Serpents (though her relationship with Toni still occurred).
> 
> 2\. This fic has a bit of a time jump, and takes place during their senior year of high school. I did this partly for plot points, but mostly to allow some space for character adjustments that could be explained through growth and time. While I did my best to maintain the true character of every person in this story, Riverdale's wonky inconsistencies have forced me to pick and choose aspects to enhance and others to dismiss. Hopefully this time jump can help ease some of these characterization shifts to the point at which it still feels realistic and their behavior seems justified.
> 
> 3\. This fic is already FINISHED! What that means for you, dear reader, is that you won't have to wait long periods between updates - updates will be consistent! There will be a new chapter EVERY THURSDAY for seven weeks, with an option for an eighth chapter epilogue if the demand is high.
> 
> Okay, that's pretty much it! I promise not to ramble so much at the beginning of the rest of my chapters, I just wanted to make sure we got off to the best possible start!

“Veronica - Ronnie - _please._ ”

Archie reached out, grappling for Veronica’s elbow as she headed toward the door. She stalled, turning on her black stiletto heel and hesitating before bringing a single palm to his cheek, “I’m sorry Archiekins,” her eyes were soft, but dry. Why were they dry? “We’ve both known for a while now this wasn’t going to work. And I can’t pretend anymore.”

“But Veronica -” Archie pleaded, silenced by the way she pulled away when he tried to move closer.

She shook her head a millimeter, almost imperceptible to someone who hadn’t memorized every atom in her body, but all-too noticeable for him, “I’m sorry.”

The whisper of her voice sent shockwaves through his heart, his feet glued to the floor as he watched Veronica sweep past the threshold of his house and down the driveway, disappearing into a nondescript town car where a heavy-footed driver lay in wait.

So this was it. The end. It didn’t feel poetic. It didn’t possess beauty or significance **.** It wasn’t the thing great tragedies were made of. It just felt like nothing.

Or it did, at first. Somewhere between the massive amount of video games and mindless time spent fiddling halfheartedly plucking the strings of his guitar, the nothingness transformed into emptiness. Emptiness and nothingness, Archie realized as he lay staring at his ceiling, were not the same thing. Nothingness feels like, well, nothing. But emptiness, that was a different beast all together. It ate him up from the inside out, placing stress on his heart and stealing air from his lungs, taking and taking even when he was certain there was nothing left to give. It was all-consuming, all-encompassing hunger.

At this point, Archie would give anything to go back to the blissful numb of nothingness.

* * *

Cheryl rushed through the parking lot with a lump in her throat that refused to be swallowed down. Her first stop would have to be the restroom - she’d go to the one by the history hallway that no one ever seemed to visit. That was definitely her best option for anonymity.

She caught sight of a barricade of motorcycles pulling into the parking lot, quickly reaching for the side entrance and ducking out of the line of fire. The last thing she needed was for Toni to see her this way. She didn’t need that kind of pity, especially not from her. She had purposefully been twenty minutes late to school just to avoid this kind of run-in. Guess she forgot how standard rules were also ignored by Serpents.

The harsh lighting in the bathroom did nothing to dull the gross display awaiting her in the mirror. Her hair was pristine, as always, and her outfit was pressed to standard perfection - none of those things would raise an issue. The red welt across her cheekbone however, that would have to be dealt with. What had begun as a stinging pink now transforming into an unavoidable crimson, the ride to school only leaving it time to grow in anger.

It wasn’t the first of its kind, but it was the most recent.

Cheryl pulled her emergency makeup supply from her purse, beginning gently with her concealer as she silently lamented the times when the kit was happily used for post-lunch lipstick applications and gossip sessions between class periods. It seemed like lifetimes since such an event had occurred. Sharing secrets had been much more fun than hiding them.

It wasn’t until she was settled into her English lecture (“ _You’re late, Miss Blossom. Again.”_ ) that Cheryl allowed herself to think - albeit briefly - about the morning’s events. While Mrs. Durbin was rambling on about the analysis essays they’d turned in a week prior, she gave in to a moment of self-pity.

She should have been smarter. She knew better than to cross the downstairs threshold that early in the morning, but she had been so hungry she figured she could sneak into the kitchen for an apple and head back to her room before anyone noticed. When her mother, still dressed in her silk robe from the night’s events, caught her coming back up the stairs, the fury in her eyes had been enough to let Cheryl know she was in for it. The moment she ventured back downstairs an hour later her mother had been there, waiting with her manicured palm poised for retribution.

_“What if my guest had caught you?” She screamed as she grabbed Cheryl by the locks and pulled her ear close, “You could have lost me some very important business, you foolish child!”_

Cheryl’s phone pinged in her pocket, pulling her from her memory and returning her to her surroundings. She drew her phone out and swiped open the screen, smiling softly when she saw a confirmation email of her registration for the University of California applications awaiting her in her inbox.

It was a carefully curated image she’d been conjuring for months: herself spread out on a vividly green lawn, hair shuffled into a careless braid as she took notes in her textbook, sending a quick wave to a group of girls as they passed.

California. That was where she needed to be. Somewhere where the sun shines constantly, friends come easily, and life progresses happily.

Somewhere where the Blossom name doesn’t mean anything to anyone.

Nearby, Ginger Lopez giggled, and Cheryl watched as she passed a note to Veronica Lodge in a less-than-stealthy manner. Amateur. Her interest heightened, she watched as Veronica unfolded the paper and scanned over its contents before sending Ginger an approving nod. A sly smile crossed Ginger’s lips, her head turning just enough to make eye contact with Cheryl and instantly grimace.

“What are _you_ staring at?” Ginger narrowed her eyes.

“The ghost of betas past.” Cheryl deadpanned.

Ginger didn’t respond (she never was good at comebacks), opting instead to whip her ponytail over her shoulder and return to Mrs. Durbin’s discussion on _The Great Gatsby_. Cheryl watched her for a moment, her chest itching with anger at the perky confidence her shoulders held, confidence she had done nothing to earn.

Ginger Lopez was a rat. Cheryl had always known it, but she was meant to be _her_ rat, not scurrying to the beck and call of the development princess.

Mrs. Durbin loudly announced that she was going to introduce their next assignment and Cheryl picked up her pencil, figuring she may as well focus on something she could control.

* * *

He really should have been paying closer attention.

It was his fault, he was too focused on _not_ focusing on Veronica. She had moved two rows over from her usual spot – a meaningless gesture considering he had also moved three rows back – but the distance hadn’t stopped her from being right in his peripheral. She had her hair in a ponytail today, a subtle change from the way it usually fell across her shoulders, and every time it swayed it brought attention to her neck. Which of course made him think of how his hands used to play at its nape, how his fingers would leave traces of heat up and down her spine.

And then he would realize he was thinking too much about her, and he would try to distract himself with other things. Video game sequences, football plays, whatever he could think of that wasn’t her. But, of course, all those things only served to remind him of _why_ he was thinking of them, which brought him right back to her…

All the while Mrs. Durbin was lecturing, her voice dissolved into nonsense, until one crystal clear word sent his mind snapping back to the present.

“ – partners. I expect a solid report with arguments for both cases. Take advantage of each other, really dig into your differing views. The specific paper requirements are printed – please pick up a rubric at the end of class.”

Archie looked around, the dull buzz and hurried glances of his classmates confirming his worst fear – they were, in fact, being assigned a partnered project. One glance at that slick black ponytail told him Veronica had already found another partner – a fellow River Vixen whose name he couldn’t recall. He didn’t know what he had possibly expected – of course she wouldn’t partner with him. The issue was that he hadn’t needed another partner for over two years now. He’d always considered himself lucky to have such an automatic and brilliant partner like Veronica.

Now, looking around and seeing Reggie give a nod to Moose and Kevin send a smile toward Josie, Archie knew his options – and his luck – had run out.

“If anyone is struggling to find a partner, please come find me after class. There is an even number of you so we shouldn’t have an issue finding a match.”

Class carried on from there, Archie’s concern growing with each passing second. The break-up had already taken so much, he couldn’t afford for it to take his grades too. Money had been tight ever since Andrews Construction had gone into business with Veronica’s dad, and, despite his father’s reassurances, it had become abundantly clear to Archie that the only real shot he had at a good education was a football scholarship. He couldn’t afford to fail classes in his senior year. Any athletic program worth its salt would have a GPA requirement he knew he was just teetering over.

He worried about it the remaining twenty minutes before the bell rang. Everyone quickly filed out of the classroom, Archie staying seated an extra beat. He took his time packing up his things before walking slowly to Mrs. Durbin’s desk, his neck already beginning to flush in anxiety. She saw him coming and greeted him with a smile.

“Hello, Archie. What can I do for you?”

“I, uh, I need a partner for the project.”

He pretended not to notice the flash of confusion on her face, “Oh, I would have thought you and Veronica… never mind. Of course I’ll help you find a partner. You’re the first student to come forward, but like I said there’s an even number of you so I’m sure we’ll figure out who you can work with soon enough.”

Archie nodded, swallowing back the embarrassment of having to ask such a thing, “Thank you, Mrs. Durbin. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He was out of the classroom in a heartbeat, happy to fall in line with his peers as he pushed through the masses toward his locker. Hopefully, someone else would step forward soon enough and it would be one less problem he had to deal with.

He got an email from Mrs. Durbin moments after the final bell of the day.

His new partner would be Cheryl Blossom.

* * *

“Alright ladies! That’s it for the day, go hit the showers!”

The rustle of pom-poms slumping to the floor indicated the end of another long practice, several of the Vixens picking up in conversation that had been abandoned two hours prior. Cheryl slumped over to where she had placed her water bottle, exhaustion from the exercise mixing with the inevitable high she always got from nailing a routine.

“Oh Cheryl,” Veronica called, her sickly-sweet voice instantly stomping on Cheryl’s relatively good mood. Straightening her spine, Cheryl pressed her lips into a smile and turned, her eyes making contact with the HBIC lettering of Veronica’s shirt before fully meeting Veronica’s eyes.

“Yes, your majesty?”

Veronica paused, her smile twitching in an obvious calculation before speaking, “I just wanted to let you know that Ginger will be taking your place at the game this Friday. After your tardiness in English class today, I feel it’s only appropriate.”

Cheryl felt like the floor she’d been doing cartwheels on just minutes before had suddenly disappeared, “But that’s not even athletic policy!” she protested, only to be met with a completely unsympathetic response.

“Sorry Cheryl, my decision is final. It’s important for me as captain to set a no tolerance policy. As Vixens, we set an example for the whole school, and it’s important that we rise above and beyond standard expectations, wouldn’t you agree?”

“But I’ve been working my butt off on that routine! You know I know it better than that brainless lackey.”

“Now Cheryl,” Veronica smiled, “Ginger earned her spot on the squad just like you did. In fact, you were the one who put her one the squad in the first place, were you not?”

“And I placed her as an alternate! When I was captain –“

Veronica’s smile disappeared as she took a sharp step forward, “But you’re not captain anymore. I am. And I say Ginger is in. Understand?”

Pinching her lips together, Cheryl swallowed her rage as best she could and nodded, her eyes fixating on a floor scratch. Knowing she’d won the battle, Veronica brushed past her with what was certain to be a satisfied smirk on her glossy lips.

She heard the gym doors slam shut, hushing the chatter of the squad and leaving her alone. She paced back and forth before seating herself on an empty bleacher.

“Ughhh!” She screamed, slamming her palms onto the bench. Her chest was rising rapidly, the adrenaline within her manifesting in external seething. It was so unfair – Veronica knew Cheryl was one of the best dancers on the squad. She was just enacting some sort of petty power trip. Again.

Not for the first time, Cheryl wondered if all her efforts on the cheer squad were really worth her time. Ever since she’d lost her reign to Veronica, she’d been an outcast among the group. She knew the only reason she was even welcomed back onto the squad this year was because school policy dictated that all returning River Vixens be offered a spot.

Still, as terrible as it was, Cheryl needed the River Vixens. As it stood, it was her only four-year extra-curricular she could place on her college applications. Besides, try as she might, she still felt an inexplicable attachment to the squad that had once been hers.

But how was she meant to hold on to the one thing she truly enjoyed about high school if she was being tossed to the sidelines?

“Cheryl?”

Cheryl jumped at the unexpected voice, swiping her french manicure beneath her surprisingly wet eyes and praying she looked acceptable. She managed a glance upward, only to realize her unexpected visitor was none other than Archie Andrews.

“What do you want?” She spat, anger welling up within her.

Archie blanched, his initial intentions visibly washing away as he took in her demeanor. “Hey, are you okay?”

Cheryl glared up at him, “Are you dense? I’m fine. And even if I wasn’t, I certainly wouldn’t want to talk to _you_ about it. Why are you even still at school anyway? Shouldn’t you have returned to your suburban utopia by now?”

“I, uh, I wanted to run some extra drills after football practice. The gym is the best place for sprints.”

It was only then that Cheryl registered the sweat dripping from Archie’s forehead - it was apparent he had just come from the field. She arched an eyebrow, “Extra drills? Did I miss the part where Coach Clayton started handing out extra credit?”

“Uh, no. I just… needed to burn off some energy. Plus, it’s senior year, so I can’t let anything go wrong. I’m sure you get that - I mean, the cheer squad has been working overtime on new routines, right?”

Cheryl scoffed, laughing heartlessly at the mention of the squad, “All new routines for an all new captain. Your girlfriend is a piece of work.”

“She’s not my girlfriend. Not anymore, at least.”

The news was surprising, but Cheryl didn’t even bother looking up, her voice dripping with false sincerity, “The princess and the puppy dog have called it quits? Pity!” Cheryl paused, the pieces of her mind clicking into place, “Pray tell, would your extra laps this evening have less to do with football and more to do with heartbreak, dear Archiekins?” This time she did look up, just in time to see something flare up in Archie’s eyes.

“Don’t call me that.” He snapped, quickly regaining his composure and adding on a soft “please”.

His voice cracked a bit on that final word, causing something in Cheryl to soften, “Wow, she really did a number on you.” She slid a few inches to her right and placed a delicate hand on the space beside her, “Come on, sit down.”

Archie’s eyebrows pinched together for a moment, clearly suspicious of her intentions.

“Contrary to popular opinion, I don’t actually bite.”

She couldn’t help but feel a flush of relief when Archie moved to join her, having automatically prepared herself to face rejection. After all, it wasn’t as though she and Archie had ever experienced a particularly close relationship. Sure, there had been a few moments here and there, but all of it had been too intensely-charged to leave room for a normal high-school dynamic to grow between them. But there was something about him in that moment, something about the pain in his eyes that Cheryl could relate to.

She turned her torso toward him expectantly, her head tilting on its axis, “Okay, spill. What happened?”

Archie hesitated, clearly uncertain. “No offense Cheryl, but why do you care?”

She sent him a wicked grin. “You know I’m always digging for the latest headline. My twitter followers will be _dying_ for the exclusive scoop.” She saw Archie’s face contort, quickly backtracking by rolling her eyes and pulling her tongue between her teeth, “I’m kidding. You just seem like maybe you could use someone to talk to. I know I’m not the most popular option these days, but… well -” she waved a hand at the empty hallway.

Archie took a breath, his eyes still scanning her face for any kind of dishonesty. He wouldn’t find any. Cheryl knew she was a lot of things, but she’d learned over the past two years not to take advantage of heartbreak. She had no intentions of taking advantage of Archie.

Plus, there was something tempting about having an actual, meaningful conversation with someone.

A sigh fell from Archie’s lips, labored and filled with a heaviness Cheryl could feel in her chest. “Things haven’t been right for a while now. I don’t know. I could blame it on our parents - the way her dad caused so much trouble for mine. Or I could say it was the pressure of coming from such different backgrounds. But really, it’s just -” He stopped, scrubbing his hands up and down his face in clear frustration.

Cheryl watched him, her hands fidgeting in her lap involuntarily. She had never been good at affection, Blossoms weren’t bred for such things, but she knew she was meant to do something. Still, she refrained, afraid her touch would only bring Archie to recoil the way it had so many others in the past.

“It’s just what?” She whispered instead, an unexpected lump in her throat causing her normally crystalline voice to diminish.

Archie brought his head from his hands, his eyes truly meeting Cheryl’s for the first time since he’d sat down. She recognized something in them, but she also recognized the way he blinked it away, choosing to cover whatever thought had crept up with something lesser. “It’s complicated, I guess.” He conceded.

Without thinking too hard about it, Cheryl reached up and brushed her fingers against the invisible bruise against her cheekbone, quickly recovering and forcing her fingers to travel upward and pull her curls behind her ear. “Complicated. Sounds familiar.”

A silence settled over them, both dwelling on their own thoughts unsaid while pretending not to notice the other. Cheryl stole a glance at the boy beside her, his red hair darkened by moisture and his cheekbones exaggerated by stress, quickly looking away when the sense that she was viewing something private washed over her.

Archie’s phone buzzed, the vibration quiet but the space between them even more so. Cheryl ignored the sense of disappointment that came over her when he announced he had to get going, trying not to give much value to the slight deflation in her chest as he stood once more.

She remained seated, her lips pressing tightly together as he began to walk away. He made it a few steps before turning back, one hand curled around his backpack strap as he slowly pulled his All-American image back into place.

“Hey Cheryl?” He said. “Thank you.”

She watched him walk away, staying where she was long after he disappeared from view. She hadn’t actually revealed anything to Archie, instead somehow getting him to confess to her, but still a part of her felt exposed. At least she could rest in the knowledge that whatever had passed between them was a one-time occurrence.

Archie had the rescuer gene in him, that had always been apparent, and it was clear he thought she was in need of rescue. But Cheryl was low on the list of most high-school priorities, even someone as attentive as Archie’s. It was a fairly safe bet the two of them wouldn’t be interacting again.

Doing her best to shake the lingering discomfort from her mind, Cheryl stood and headed toward the girls’ locker room, finding it blissfully void of all other Vixens. She changed back into her school-day ensemble, taking a moment in front of the bathroom mirror to rid herself of any sweaty sheen and re-apply her lipstick.

When she was finished, she pulled her phone from her backpack, firing it up to see a few emails had come through. There were the typical ones – promotional emails from her choice makeup and clothing lines – and one from her English teacher, Mrs. Durbin.

Rather than risk the embarrassment of being caught as the loser who couldn’t find a partner on her own, Cheryl had opted to send her teacher an email during the lunch period requesting a partner, and it seemed she’d already found one. She stared down at the name, surprised, confused, and (if she was willing to be honest with herself) a little excited.

Archie Andrews.

Looks like today wouldn’t be a one-time occurrence after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaand that's that! The beginning of what will hopefully be a very fun journey! Please, if you liked this even a little bit, leave a comment! I'm very insecure and in desperate need of your positive affirmations.


	2. this slope is treacherous (and i like it)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, all my love to @elegantmoonchild for her endless support and amazing beta skills

Archie grabbed his lunch tray and headed toward the outdoor lunch area. It was pizza day in the cafeteria, which was normally a favorite of his, but his appetite vanished when he spotted a familiar flash of raven locks huddled next to Betty at their usual table. He wondered if he should bail, just turn around and spend the lunch period in the music room, but Jughead looked up and caught sight of him before any such escape could be made.

He squared his shoulders and took a deep breath, trying and failing not to mentally compare his walk to a death march. He had hoped Veronica would eat in the cafeteria with the Vixens liked she’d done last week, but it seemed his grace period had ended. 

“Hey Arch,” Betty greeted him, her tone dripping with a gentle pity that made Archie want to bang his head into the nearest wall, “How was class?”

It was obvious what was happening, and he hated every second of it: Veronica was back, and everyone wanted to play pretend. Obliviousness in the place of kindness, it seemed. But Archie wasn’t oblivious – he could see the hidden meaning behind Betty’s attempt at small talk, could read between the casual way Betty had chosen to sit next to Veronica instead of Jughead. That had been his space, not long ago. It wasn’t his anymore. None of it was.

“Fine.” He answered curtly, his eyes fixating on his tray.

“You’re really missing out not taking AP Physics,” Jughead said, picking up the conversation Archie had so purposefully dropped, “Mr. Starla’s toupee shifts every time he gets excited about the force of gravity. Fingers crossed he gets it caught in the catapults we’re making at the end of the semester.”

“It’s an absolutely tragedy,” Veronica chimed in, her perky tone causing him to clench his jaw, “That poor man is the perfect candidate for a makeover.”

“Seriously,” Betty laughed, “I mean,  _ someone _ in his life has to have told him how awful that thing is, right? Like, wouldn’t his wife have said something?”

“He’s not married. But still, you’d think Weatherbee would have called it a fire hazard,” Jughead noted, picking up a fry and shoving it in his mouth.

“Well, now we  _ know _ he needs a makeover.” Veronica laughed, carefree and without reservation, “With a better look he could actually get a girlfriend. Fall in love, have a few kids – maybe then he’d go easier on his final grades.”

“Because love just fixes everything, right, Veronica?” Archie narrowed his eyes, his voice hardening, “Because when you fall in love, it’s all rainbows and sunshine and good grades, right? But what happens when she breaks his heart? What happens when she just leaves him without any warning? What happens then, huh? Maybe, Mr. Durbin is better off single. Maybe, he’ll save himself all that pain from years wasted. Maybe -”

“Archie.” Betty’s voice brought him back, his chest rising rapidly as he took stock of his so-called friends.

The table grew silent, Archie’s inability to play nice ruining the group’s attempt of normalcy. He knew he should feel bad for not even trying to play along. A small part of him did. But a much larger, much louder part of him was too angry to care.

He stood hastily, knowing it was too early to leave but unable to resist the urge to flee. “I’ve gotta go.” He announced, his mouth pressed into a hard line as Veronica finally met his gaze.

“Archie –“ she started, her voice already finding that perfect space between comfort and chastisement he knew too well.

He didn’t leave her time to continue, swinging his legs over the picnic bench and starting up the small hill toward the gymnasium. It wasn’t the entrance he meant to go toward, but he had already started in a direction and wasn’t going to risk backtracking now.

The door opened with ease, the loud squeak of its hinges and clash of its closing reverberating through the concrete space. Say what you wanted to about the Riverdale gym, it had great acoustics.

The push of his sneakers against the hardwood floor was louder than he would have liked, but he didn’t give it much thought. He was too preoccupied with figuring out how to spend his newly-earned free time. In his rush to get away from the sound of his own buzzing anger, he almost missed the spark of red hair seated in the top corner of the bleachers. She had already spotted him, of course, his rushed entrance disturbing her quiet. He paused when he saw her, unsure of if he should just keep going, but then she smiled at him and he took it as invitation to ascend the metal steps.

“Apple slice?” Cheryl asked in lieu of pleasantries, holding out the metal tin she had been snacking from as he approached.

He took one, his stomach growling in cruel reminder that he had abandoned his pizza outside, and quickly popped it into his mouth. It was unexpectedly sour, his face contorting before he could think better of his reaction.

“It’s a granny smith,” She smiled, “They can be a bit tart, but I like them that way.” She took her own bite, the two of them sitting in silence for a moment before Archie’s curiosity got the better of him.

“What are you doing in here?”

Cheryl shrugged, the rise of her shoulder causing the brooch adorning her sweater to glint in the fluorescent light, “Same thing as you I suppose. Trying to take some time away from the petri dish of teenage melodrama that is high school.”

There was something about her tone that he didn’t understand, “What could you, Cheryl  _ Bombshell _ Blossom, possibly need to get away from? Don’t you basically run this school?”

She surprised him when she laughed, the sound void of any humor, “Archie, I know you’ve been too busy shoving your tongue down Veronica’s throat to notice much of anything, but even you must know I’m a social pariah.” She straightened, a clear mental shift occurring, “Which is totally whatever, obviously. But still, even the daftest of people know to avoid the spotlight when the masses have turned against them.”

He considered her comment for a moment, trying to get past the initial sting of hearing Veronica’s name. If he really thought about it, Cheryl had seemed to fade from the social scene over the past year. He heard about the scandal with her mother like everybody else, but as with everything that happened in Riverdale he’d moved on.

He hadn’t really thought much about how Cheryl couldn’t do the same.

“Is it really that bad?” He almost whispered, his hand finding its place on her forearm. Her eyes drifted to the point of contact before looking up to meet his, her gaze softening a bit.

“Oh, Archie, you always were so clueless. Seeing only the best in people – it’s your signature.”

He had thought, hoped even, that she’d say more, but her tone made it clear that was as far as he was going to get.

“I suppose I don’t need to ask why you’re here?” She quirked a brow, Archie’s silence all the answer she needed. “Well then,” Cheryl reached behind them to grab her backpack, “since neither of us feel like turning this into an episode of Dr. Phil, we may as well get started on that English essay. I did some research into potential themes and motifs we could cover and -”

“Woah, Cheryl – how much work have you done?” Archie interrupted, eyes widening at the novel she had produced from her backpack. There were post-it notes tabs separating different sections and – was that whole thing color-coded?

Cheryl didn’t even blink, “Preparation is key, Andrews.”

“Okay, well, can you run some of your ideas by me so I can at least  _ pretend _ I did something?”

He could see her assessing him, a faint smile on her lips as she nodded once and opened her notes. “There are a lot of subjects we could cover, but some hold more potential than others. Mrs. Durbin wants us to pick something we can analyze from multiple points of view. So, we could study F. Scott Fitzgerald’s views on American society and how they influenced his writing, or how the story could differ if it was told from altered perspectives, or how Gatsby could have really made something more of himself had he not chosen to blindly pursue a fruitless dream of romance for his entire adult life –“

“Wait,” Archie stopped her, “Are you saying Gatsby’s love for Daisy was pointless?”

“Pointless, no. It clearly played a significant role in the trajectory of his life, so certainly not pointless,” She pursued her lips, “Moronic, fruitless, delusional? Definitely.”

“Gatsby wasn’t delusional,” Archie protested, “He was in love! It’s not his fault society got in the way. He was following his heart.”

“I think he was following a body part a bit farther south than that,” Cheryl shot him a pointed look, “That, and his archaic views of a projected romance. That man was so caught up in a vision of a woman he didn’t even know that he ruined his own life. It wasn’t a noble purpose, it was the doings of a crazed imbecile.”

Archie shook his head. Even in his current state of heartbreak, he couldn’t imagine someone thinking love wasn’t worth the effort. “I disagree. I think that, even though it didn’t work out, what Gatsby did was admirable.”

Cheryl analyzed him, her eyes sparking with purpose as she reached back down into her backpack and pulled out a cherry red notebook, “Well then, dear Archie, it looks like we’ve found our debatable topic.”

* * *

Cheryl was surprised by how enthusiastic Archie seemed about their essay. They began spending every lunch period together, sitting side-by-side on the gymnasium bleachers as they rifled through literary articles and compared chapter notes.

Archie was goofy, energetic, and incredibly disorganized – three things Cheryl traditionally hated. Somehow though, his flaws were tolerable, maybe even just a little bit likeable, and the two of them made surprisingly effective partners. In fact, if it weren’t for how quickly he got distracted, Archie could have been one of the best partners she’d ever had.

His lack of focus reared its ugly head just minutes into their lunch hour, when he discarded his novel to the side and pulled out his phone, laughing at a video playing on the screen. “Cheryl,” he spoke animatedly, “You have to see this. It’s a dog on a skateboard!”

He slid closer to her on the bench, extending his arm to give her a better view of the screen and covering up her own notes in the process.

“I’m doing work, Archie.  _ Our _ work. I don’t have time for your viral videos.”

He pouted, his lower lip pushing forward, “It’s, like, thirty seconds long. Just watch it!”

Cheryl sighed, raising her brow and nodding in response, trying to suppress a smile as Archie excitedly hit play.

He was right, the video was short, but it certainly wasn’t as funny as he perceived. When it ended she pursed her lips, her eyes darting back to her work and readying her pencil for further notes. “Great,” she said, her tone conveying a decidedly lackluster reaction.

“You didn’t like it?” Archie’s voice was soft, almost as if she had kicked the puppy instead of not laughing at it.

She swallowed her original response, which included a comment about humor of the lowest common denominator, choosing to play a bit nicer and softening her words, “I’m just not sure the entertainment value exceeded the value of the work time I lost due to the interruption.”

Archie nodded, a strange sense of determination crossing his features, “I guess I’ll just have to find you a video worth the interruption.”

“Please don’t.”

But Archie wasn’t listening, already tapping away on his phone in the search for superior levels of hilarity. She rolled her eyes (an occurrence that’s frequency had direct correlation to her time spent with him), and returned to her notes.

“Can you at least give your  _ humble _ pursuit pause long enough to help me finalize this point?”

Archie obliged, setting down his phone and sliding closer to get a better look at her notes, “What point are you looking at?”

“It’s the section where we’re analyzing the role of head versus heart in famous literature. I’ve got plenty of examples of cautionary tales, but I need your notes on literature that  _ supports _ the theory of a happy ending. Have you found anything yet?”

“Yeah, I have my list… somewhere.” Archie picked up his backpack and started digging around, extracting a yellow folder and pulling out a sheet of loose-leaf paper. “Here we go.” He handed the sheet to Cheryl, who immediately started to assess his progress. His handwriting was unsurprisingly messy, and it took her a moment to discern his choices. Pride and Prejudice, A Midsummer Night’s Dream, and Jane Eyre topped the relatively short list. “These will work,” she noted, “even though they are a bit cliché.”

“Why do you say it like that?”

Cheryl looked up from her notes, confusion painting her features. “Say  _ what _ like that?”

“Cliché.” Archie shifted his torso to face her, “You say it like it’s a bad thing. Like it’s dumb.”

“Clichés  _ are _ dumb.” Cheryl insisted, “And a happy ending is the worst cliché of them all.”

“I don’t know, I think people need happy endings. To give them hope.”

Cheryl felt her skin bristle at his optimism. It was off putting and ill-advised, and someone who had just experienced the heartbreak he had really should know better. “Hope is a precarious being, Archie. People are better of without it, believe me.”

He didn’t respond, the pitying look that accompanied his silence sad enough to make her regret saying anything at all. He would learn. Everyone learns eventually. Unwilling to look any longer, she turned back to her work, losing herself in the reliability of her literature.

* * *

Archie smiled down at his phone and fired off a quick reply text to Cheryl.  _ Be there in five. _

They’d eaten lunch together every day for the past week and a half, spending the majority of their time on their English essay. He knew they were taking the project too seriously – everyone else seemed to be throwing something small but adequate together with no real event – but he didn’t really care. It was a nice excuse to get away from it all and focus on something concrete. Plus, he had been dying to show her a video Kevin had sent to him during second period of these little dogs running up and down stairs. He was certain  _ this _ would be the video to make her laugh.

It was strange how much he enjoyed spending time with Cheryl. He remembered back during sophomore year, Cheryl had grown closer to Archie and his friends in the aftermath of her father’s arrest. And after he had pulled Cheryl from the cracked ice of Sweetwater River, Archie had felt a special protection over her. But somewhere along the way Cheryl had faded out, and he couldn’t truly pinpoint where.

He recalled her relationship with Toni – it was fiery and fast and the talk of the town, but he honestly couldn’t remember how it ended. He just sort of looked up one day and it was over. Maybe Cheryl was right, maybe he was too focused on Veronica to notice what was going on around him.

He hadn’t made any real progress on getting her to open up, but he knew something significant had to have happened in her life for Cheryl to have taken such a dramatic fall from grace. Something was different about her than it had been a year and a half ago – she was still filled with fire and determination, but it all seemed duller now, like it was being slowly snuffed out.

Of course, she was still Cheryl. She had a sharp tongue and a low tolerance for his antics, which was admittedly frustrating. Even so, he would take a friend where he could find one.

He was rounding the corner, already smiling at the thought of Cheryl’s  _ you’re ridiculous _ head shake after he’d show her the video, when he was stopped dead in his tracks by a completely unanticipated sight.

Veronica, with her back pushed up against a locker and a familiar figure in a snake-adorned jacket holding her in place. He watched in horror as her mouth clashed into his, fingers entangling themselves in dark locks and running their way down leather-clad shoulder blades.

His whole body screamed to run, run far away and pretend he didn’t see anything. This wasn’t a conversation he was prepared to have, wasn’t a reality he was prepared to face. He listened to his instinct and turned to go, but his hands were shaking too hard and he dropped the book he had so happily grabbed from his locker just moments before.

His worst nightmare came to life as Veronica detached herself from Sweet Pea’s mouth, her eyes somehow growing wider than his own as she quickly pushed away from her new make out buddy and rushed toward him.

“Archie, wait -” she called, her heels clacking against the empty hallway floor in a cacophony of panic. “- please, let me explain -”

“Explain what, Veronica?” Archie turned suddenly, anger flaring up in his voice. He could see from the way she flinched that he had frightened her, a sense of satisfaction forming at his ability to cause her even the slightest bit of pain. “How you only broke up with me two and a half weeks ago but you’re already screwing around with somebody new? You work fast Ronnie, really you do.”

“It isn’t like that. Stephen and I -”

“Stephen?  _ Stephen?  _ Since when do you call Sweet Pea…” Recognition dawned across his face, a single flicker of vulnerability on Veronica’s face enough to shatter every piece of his already broken heart.

“He’s why you broke up with me, isn’t he?”

He had said the words, had felt the weight of their truth in his heart, but he didn’t fully register their ache until she confirmed the truth with her own lips.

“I love him Archie.”

He searched her face for any semblance of regret or remorse, desperate for any part of her to admit that maybe, just maybe, she had made a mistake.

But it wasn’t there. It was almost as if her entire face had transformed into that of a stranger, every inch of the girl before him unrecognizable.

“Well, then, I guess that’s it.” Archie’s voice cracked in a way that made him instantly regret saying anything at all, his whole body turning away from her and rushing in the opposite direction.

He tried not to think too much about how she didn’t call after him.

He walked into the gymnasium fifteen minutes later, spotting Cheryl in what had somehow become their spot almost instantly. She heard him coming, not even bothering to look up as she started talking, “You’re late. You told me you’d be here almost fifteen minutes ago.”

He hovered next to the space, too wound up to actually sit down like he was expected to. This caught Cheryl attention, forcing her to set her yellow highlighter to the side and look up at him, her annoyed expression instantly softening at his ruffled appearance, “Archie, what happened?”

He didn’t answer, meeting her eyes but unable to form any real words. It was like his entire brain had stopped working.

“Earth to Archie?” Cheryl waved her hand, a half-laugh escaping her lips, “Seriously, are you okay? You’re kind of freaking me out right now.”

He stopped pacing, sitting down next to her and gripping the edge of the bleacher, “Veronica, she -” his voice caught, throat thick with unexpected emotions, “She’s in love with Sweet Pea.” The words left his lips in a strange sort of revelation, prompting a softer, more final repetition, “She’s in love with Sweet Pea.”

Cheryl’s eyebrows shot up, her lips parting softly as she released a soft “ _ c’est nul _ ” beneath her breath. When Archie’s eyebrows knit together with confusion, Cheryl gave him a small smile and translated. “That sucks.” 

Archie laughed, the bluntness of her statement catching him off guard, “Yeah, it does suck. It sucks. It sucks!” He threw his arms in the air and yelled into the open space, finding something satisfying in the way his sentiments reverberated across the walls.

The feeling didn’t last long though, his chest quickly weighing him down and pulling him back to the silence. “How long do you think it’s been going on?”

Cheryl shrugged, “I don’t exactly know gossip the way I used to. It’s a bit harder to have your finger on the pulse when no one lets you close to their skin.”

“Cheryl?” Archie took a breath, gathering his courage, “What happened to you? I know I’m oblivious but I really didn’t…”

“Oh, Archie,” Cheryl sighed, looking like the weight of the world was settling on her shoulders, “The truth is in a small town like Riverdale a family can only survive so many scandals. And people like to take down the leader. It makes the little people feel good to see the great and powerful fall.”

Archie nodded slightly, taking a moment to think about her words.

“I probably deserved it, too,” she continued, “I mean, not all of it. But I know I wasn’t exactly the… friendliest.”

“You had your moments,” Archie countered, “You always had a kind heart, it was just wrapped up in some pretty heavy shrapnel sometimes.”

She looked taken aback, an emotion in her eye Archie didn’t quite know how to read. “Thank you,” she whispered, her gaze turning away from him and to her own hands. “You know, your girlfriend isn’t the great vindicator people like to think she is. You deserve better than the way she treated you.”

Now it was Archie’s turn to sigh, “I don’t know. I feel like the girl I was dating and the girl you keep telling me about are two different people. It’s a hard thing to wrap my head around.”

“Veronica has always had two faces. She was Hyde for those on her good side, Jekyll for… well, me. And maybe a few others, I’m not certain. But her personal vendetta against me goes well beyond the normal.”

“What did you do?”

Cheryl shrugged, her eyes distant, “What didn’t I do?”

Archie watched her, finding her detached apathy both unsettling and strangely comforting. Like she was an empty wall that he could bounce all his feelings against without any repercussions.

“I feel like I’m falling apart,” He admitted, swallowing thickly as the words met the air. Cheryl looked at him then, sympathy settling behind her eyes.

“You won’t feel like that forever,” She said, “You’re destined for greatness Archie, I’ve known it since the third grade.”

“Third grade?” Archie asked.

Cheryl smiled, a softer smile than Archie was used to. “You managed to settle the great playground war. Do you remember? The girls wanted to play on the swings but the boys kept throwing soccer balls in the way. You jumped up on the top of the slide and announced the boys would be moving their game to the other side of the field.”

He laughed, a brief memory of a pigtailed-Betty beaming up at him from the bottom of the playset flashing across his mind, “You remember that?”

Cheryl hesitated for a moment, before reaching her hand over to gently cover his. “I remember a lot of things, Archie.”

In an unexpected move, she pushed forward, her lips pressing lightly against his. It was over in seconds, her face pulling away and her hand retreating to her lap. Her eyes scanned his face, widening with regret at what must have been pure shock in his expression.

“I’m so sorry, I don’t know what I was -”

She didn’t get a chance to finish her sentence, because before she could form another word his mouth was on hers, hands pulling at the sides of her face and drawing her in a desperate plea. He might have stopped, might have come to his senses were it not for the way she responded, first with rigid shock and then quickly with hurried hunger, her hands pulling him down to meet her and her tongue crashing between his teeth.

And then it was just the two of them, clashing together in a mess of lips and tongues and hands. His hand in her hair, across her neck, at her hip. Her palm across his chest, down his back, up his arms. It was like his whole body was on fire, every little touch and movement sending sparks of desire through his body.

Time lost all meaning, until it didn’t anymore and they pulled back, his breathing labored and her lipstick smudged. They stared at each other in disbelief, both of them afraid to break the thick air between them. Cheryl seemed to come to her senses first, blinking a few times before straightening.

“What was that for?” Her voice was quiet, laced with something Archie didn’t have a word for. He didn’t have any words, not really. Nothing in him could truly explain what had just happened. He recalled, briefly, a single moment poolside between the two of them a long time ago: Cheryl in a blue gown, Archie in a custom suit. Her lips had parted across his then too, but it had been different. They had been different.

Eventually, he found his voice, low and quiet as it was, and he whispered the only real truth he knew, “I don’t – I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking. I guess it just... felt good to stop thinking.”

Cheryl breathed a sharp intake of air, nodding softly but looking past him, somehow, “Well,” she began, turning away from him and pulling a spare compact out of her purse, “Glad I could be of assistance.” She ran a finger across her lip line, taking note of the way her lipstick had smudged below its carefully drawn lines, “If you’ll excuse me, I need to hurry if I’m going to get this fixed before the lunch hour ends.”

She stood abruptly, Archie instinctively following suit as his hand reached for her forearm, “Cheryl,” he started, something lurching in his chest at the way her eyes hardened, “I, uh, thank you.”

She nodded, her face pinching a bit with the action. “Anytime, Andrews.”

He watched as she rushed away, the metal door slamming shut behind her and leaving Archie alone, again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this chapter! Truly, I'm so grateful for those of you who left comments on the first chapter. I know this is a bit of a niche pairing, so having your support means the absolute world to me! Please, if you liked this chapter let me know - I'm always in need of further validation!


	3. i never saw you coming (and i'll never be the same)

Archie’s feet pounded on the field, forehead dripping with sweat as he raced Reggie from one end to the other. Sprints always were his least favorite part of practice, speed being one of the weaker points of Archie’s athleticism. He wasn’t the slowest by any means, but his precision and ability to read others on the field had always been where he shined. Speed was the chink in his armor, the one piece of his game he needed to get whipped into shape before the college recruiters started coming around.

Reggie beat him to the goal line by a solid two seconds, both of them doubling over as they fought to catch their breath.

“I’m gonna get you one of these days, Reg,” Archie joked good-naturedly, his hand reaching up to slap the jersey number on his friend’s back.

Reggie scoffed, his adrenaline-onset grin transforming into his signature cocky smirk, “In your dreams, Andrews. In your dreams.”

Reggie trotted off toward the sidelines, Archie close behind, where the team’s water bottles were scattered across a bench.

“You think you’re ready for homecoming? That’s when all those scouts are coming, right?” Reggie asked, picking up his bottle and taking a generous swig of water.

Archie ran a hand through his hair and nodded, “I think so. I just need to loosen up. The nerves aren’t good for my speed.”

“Well, you know the best way to get loose,” Reggie grinned, “You gotta get laid.”

The water Archie was swallowing halted in his throat, his hand banging up against his chest as he spluttered in shock. “Uh,” He started when he was able to catch his breath, “I don’t think that’s really what I need, Reggie.”

“Oh c’mon Arch, I know you and the East-side princess called it quits, but that just means now is the  _ perfect _ time for some exploration. You’re the quarterback, you could get yourself a few side honeys.”

“Ha ha,” Archie replied sarcastically, “We can’t all be as big of a lady killer as you are Reggie. Some of us have standards.”

“Hey, I have standards!” Reggie protested, throwing a hand to his chest in mock insult, “I might pull  _ all _ the ladies, but I only hook up with the hot ones.”

Archie rolled his eyes, deciding he was done with the conversation and discarding his water cup in the nearby trash bin. “C’mon Romeo,” Archie slapped Reggie’s shoulder, “Let’s get back to practice.”

They jogged back onto the field, prepping for the next round of sprints. A cheer rang out across the field, Archie’s eyes immediately darting over to the gaggle of uniform-clad Vixens as they shook their pom-poms in some attempt at routine. His eyes lingered a bit longer than they should have on a particular girl, her leg kicking up above her head and a surprisingly genuine smile on her face.

“Dude,” Reggie interrupted his thoughts, “You’re staring.”

Archie quickly turned away, his eyes focusing on the goal line as he readied himself for the Coach’s whistle. “No, I’m not,” He gritted through his teeth.

“It’s all good,” Reggie muttered, “Veronica was a force, I get it. Just remember my advice: the best way to get over someone is to get  _ under _ someone else.”

The whistle blew and Archie was off, his feet barely touching the ground as he sprinted toward his goal and away from the unnerving fact he hadn’t quite come to realize: that Reggie had misunderstood, he hadn’t been staring at Veronica at all.

He had been staring at Cheryl.

* * *

Cheryl pulled the elastic out of her hair and shook her curls loose, reaching into her locker for a hairbrush. Today had been particularly windy, which mercifully offset the heat of early September, but was doing no favors for her appearance.

Practice had been interesting, to say the least. Veronica insisted they take cheer practice outside for the football season, a nice idea in theory that proved a massive failure in execution. They practiced at the same time as the football team, and the constant presence of boys had created mass distraction. In just the short week since they’d begun their outdoor practices, the Vixens’ shorts had gotten shorter, the tank tops more revealing, and the hip shaking more frequent. While some girls would argue this was their golden opportunity to gain a great date for homecoming, Cheryl considered it a colossal waste of time. 

The Bulldogs were, of course, eating it up. Cheryl had watched Reggie use his water break as an excuse to flex and flash a smile on more than one occasion, and the other players were more than happy to follow his lead.

One of the only boys who wasn’t playing along was Archie. Despite the attempts from  _ several _ of the freshmen, his focus was unwavering, although whether his goal was improving performance or avoiding Veronica was anyone’s guess.

(Not that Cheryl had been looking, of course. She couldn’t care less what Archie was doing.)

Cheryl, for her part, was determined to stay focused during practice. She was desperate to lose herself in the routine, to latch onto the rhythm and let her mind go blank. The high of a routine was the one place she found true solace from her problems, and she wasn’t going to let a few jersey-clad boys keep her from that.

She especially wasn’t going to let herself be distracted by Archie’s biceps, or the clearly defined stomach muscles that appeared whenever he wiped his brow with his shirt, or the memory of how his body had felt pressed against hers on the bleachers.

Definitely not that.

The day after she’d kissed Archie for the first time _ ,  _ Cheryl had walked slowly to the gym, fulling anticipating spending the lunch period alone. She was surprised to find Archie already in their spot, hunched over a cheeseburger and scrolling through his phone. He looked up when he saw her, his eyes brightening as he waved the burger in greeting, a small glob of ketchup spilling off and landing on the seat beside him. She giggled despite herself, climbing up a few steps to sit opposite of the mess.

_ “Archie, I’m surprised you’re here.” _

_ “Why wouldn’t I be?” He shrugged his shoulders, “We’ve still got an essay to finish, right?” _

It had been business as usual after that, the two of them silently and collectively choosing to ignore the moment they had shared. Which was exactly what Cheryl had wanted, of course. 

She pulled her backpack from her locker, preparing to leave when one of the freshman on the team approached her.

“Hey Cheryl! Great job out there today!” She beamed.

“Uh, thanks Rachel.” Cheryl hesitated, surprised by the unexpected compliment.

“So listen,” Rachel started, her fingers twirling the end of her hair, “My parents are headed out of town in a couple weeks, and I’m throwing a party. Do you think, maybe, you could stop by?”

Cheryl’s brow furrowed with confusion as she fixed her mouth into a frown, her instinct telling her the invite had to be a joke. She hadn't been invited to any of the Vixen events in what seemed like ages, much less a party. Was this some sort of cruel freshman initiation prank?

Her suspicion seemed to backfire, however, when Rachel’s eyes widened in what could only be described as embarrassment.

“I mean, you don’t have to,” she backpedalled, “I know a freshman party probably isn’t as cool as you’re used to, but my brother goes to the community college and he promised to use his fake ID to get beer.”

Wait, was this girl  _ intimidated _ by Cheryl? In a  _ positive _ way? Cheryl felt herself soften. “That sounds… really nice.” She reminded herself to smile.

“Yeah?” Rachel looked at her with such excitement Cheryl’s heart almost cracked in half. How could so much sincerity come from one person?

“Yeah.” Cheryl responded, surprised by the effort it took to raise her voice above a whisper. Rachel flashed her one last smile and moved away, trailing down the locker to pass her invite along to other girls on the squad. 

Cheryl watched her for a moment before turning back to collect her things, an unfamiliar feeling of hope blooming in her chest. Sure, it was just a freshman, but Cheryl felt like she had proved something. Like maybe there were still people left in Riverdale who weren't looking to judge her for her past. Like maybe this last year wasn't completely hopeless after all.

* * *

“Statistics class is the worst.” Archie complained, “How is anyone supposed to understand this?”

Cheryl shook her head, leaning over from where she was sitting to look at Archie’s paper. “You have to reject the null hypothesis.”

Archie furrowed his eyebrows toward his paper before looking up at Cheryl in amazement, “How do you know that?”

Cheryl sighed, setting her own work to the side and sliding closer to Archie, “Look,” she pointed at the given data, “The p-value is less than alpha, which is our significance level. Whenever that holds true you reject the null hypothesis. Otherwise you fail to reject. Get it?”

He stared down at the paper, the wheels in his brain struggling to turn as he processed what he knew should be basic information. Blissfully, something in the back of his mind clicked into place and the numbers in front of him began to make sense. “Yeah, okay. Thanks Cheryl.”

She didn’t respond, just shifting back to her place on the bleacher bench and resuming her economics readings. The two of them had been sitting together in relative silence for the majority of the lunch period, Archie a bit too on edge about the night’s upcoming game to be his regular talkative self. It was the first game of the season and they were playing against Central High, one of the top-ranked teams in the state. There weren’t any scouts coming, but the outcome was still a big deal when it came to Riverdale’s state ranking, and it was important to have a good reputation among the college circuit.

Loudly, Archie’s phone dinged, pulling his eyes away from his worksheet. It was a text from Reggie, a caps lock message asking in complete shock if Archie knew that Veronica was “digging around in the Serpent trash”. Pinching his eyes closed, Archie scrubbed his hands down his face and willed his memory to follow.

“Everything okay?” Cheryl asked, her eyes unmoving from her textbook. It was unnerving how she could sense shifts in his mood like that, especially without even looking. 

Archie shook his head, “Just some Veronica drama. Looks like Reggie heard about Sweet Pea.”

“Right,” Cheryl cleared her throat, “Well, it’s best these things come out quickly, right?”

“I guess,” he frowned, “I just don’t want everyone to start pitying me.”

“Well, not to worry.” Cheryl clipped, a sly smile tugging at her lips, “I definitely won’t be pitying you anytime soon. And I certainly won’t listen to whatever terrible songs you write about in your quest to become a second-rate Ed Sheeran. No amount of heartbreak can make me feel sorry enough for that.”

He chuckled, shaking his head and letting out a sarcastic “thanks”.

“Anytime, Andrews,” She joked, the air stilling as they looked at each other. Archie nodded curtly, his mouth forming a hard line as he recalled the last time she’d said that to him, when he’d kissed her in a spot not far from where they sat now. They hadn’t spoken of it since, something Archie had thought was the smart choice. Still, he couldn’t help but hear Reggie’s voice in the back of his head.  _ You need to loosen up… _

“You sure it’s just Veronica drama?” Cheryl asked again, Archie looking toward her to find her eyes softly trained on his face, “You’ve been quiet all of lunch. Not that I’m complaining, of course.”

Archie shook his head, “I’m just – nervous for the game tonight, I guess.”

Cheryl nodded, thinking she understood but obviously not. “Try not to think too much about it – nerves will only serve to throw you further off your game.”

Archie felt his heart skip a beat, her words skirting too close to his thoughts. He watched her for a moment, his eyes falling to a stray curl that had separated from her otherwise flawless hair do. “Cheryl?” He started, his voice choking a bit on her name.

“Yes?” She replied, looking at him expectantly. Her cherry-red lips were glossy enough to reflect a bit of the light, and Archie was struck with the recollection of how they had felt pressed firmly against his own. He swallowed thickly, forcing his gaze away from her mouth and to her eyes. “Do you remember, uh, I mean… well it’s just that -”

He trailed off, his brow furrowing as he tried to untangle what seemed to be an ever expanding web of thoughts.

“This isn’t  _ The King’s Speech _ , Archie,” Cheryl prompted, “Spit it out.”

Archie closed his eyes and took a deep breath, releasing it and feeling words begin to tumble forward from his lips, “So I was at practice with Reggie earlier this week, and he told me I need to loosen up. You know, I’ve been tense lately – with all the drama and the pressure of impressing scouts I just can’t seem to get out of my own head. And at first, I ignored his advice because, well, it was stupid and it was from Reggie. But now it’s game day and my mind is all over the place and I keep thinking about his suggestion and I don’t know, I think maybe he could be onto something, maybe it could work, maybe I should try it?” His voice flickered upward in the manner of a question, something in the back of Archie’s mind registering that he was trying to ask for permission.

Cheryl pressed her lips together, her eyes flickering with something Archie couldn’t discern between annoyance and amusement, “And what, exactly, was this method Reggie suggested?”

He shifted a bit on the bleacher, his eyes not quite meeting hers. “He thought maybe I should have a casual hook up.”

A laugh escaped Cheryl’s lips, the sound so abrupt it forced Archie’s eyes up, “Typical Reggie. That boy is a carbon-copy of a 90s sitcom sidekick.” Her smile shifted a bit, almost imperceptible, “Did you have someone in mind?”

She looked at him expectantly, and Archie could feel his cheeks significantly redden, “Well, uh, I was thinking… I mean, last time we… it was like I totally stopped thinking. And if I could recreate that, if I could stop thinking about everything -”

“Oh.” Recognition dawned on Cheryl’s face, “Me?” She took a moment to absorb the information, Archie watching nervously as she did. Why he was nervous, he couldn’t really tell. Did he want her to say yes? Would he be relieved if she said no? Why had he even brought something so stupid up in the first place? His felt his pulse quicken as he watched the wheels in her head turn.

Her mouth open once, twice, before she cocked her head to the side and finally spoke. “Well, it’s not the worst idea.”

“It’s not?” Archie asked, disappointed by the way his voice betrayed his insecurity in her answer.

“It’s clear we have physical chemistry,” she considered, “and studies have shown that physical intimacy releases endorphins that improve moods and calm nerves. I could understand the benefit for you. And I’m not opposed to a little fun now and then.”

“So... you’re in?”

Drawing her bottom lip between her teeth, Cheryl thought before releasing it in response, “There’d have to be some ground rules. For one, this can’t get in the way of my school work. I need to keep my GPA up for college applications. And no one can know, of course. If people find out they’ll assume there’s more to it, and the whole thing will be ruined. On the same line, if at any point one of us wants out then we’re done.”

Overwhelmed, Archie barely managed his response. “Anything else?” He choked.

She seemed to consider that for a moment, “This is not a relationship,” she said, her tone commanding, “There will be no romancing, no emotions. If at any point that line starts to blur, we pull the plug. No strings, no exceptions.”

Archie nodded, “Deal.”

They sat staring at each other for a moment, Archie uncertain what to do next.

“Well?” Cheryl spoke, her tone expectant. “Are we gonna do this or what?”

That snapped Archie back to reality, a sudden panic rising in his chest as he realized what he was meant to do next. Is this how it started? He hadn’t had a girl ask him to kiss her since Britney Moretz in the fourth grade. Still, he started this, he needed to follow through.

Slowly, he brought his hand up to her cheek, thinking better of it and sliding his fingers back to her neck. He looked at her for a moment, leaning in cautiously before backing out again, switching the angle of his head as he tried to figure out how best to begin.

“ Oh my god ,” Cheryl grumbled, her hands coming up suddenly and grabbing his face. In a swift motion she pulled him toward her, their lips making hurried contact. She pushed against him, in clear control of the motion, the paper that had been resting on his lap falling to the floor.

He didn’t spend too much energy worrying about the dropped assignment, the pressure of her lips colliding with his as her hands clawed their way down his back too overwhelming for much other thought. The most his mind could register was  _ oh my God this was actually happening. He was actually kissing Cheryl Blossom.  _ He let himself fall into the sensation, his hands tangling in her hair and pulling her body closer.  _ Closer.  _ That was what he wanted. He wanted more of whatever was coursing through his veins, whatever this all-consuming buzzing was. His body screamed at the infuriating way they were hip-to-hip on the bleachers, forcing Archie to break away just long enough to swing one leg over the bench so that he straddled either side. He quickly pulled her flush against him, surprised and grateful when she followed his action and swiftly pulled one leg over his thigh, choosing to straddle his lap instead of the plastic in front of him.

His hands flew down to the cotton of her cheer skirt - that material he knew so frustratingly well - pushing against the curve of her body and flattening her against his chest. His lips left hers and began to travel down her jaw, tracing the V of her top and leaving him silently praising the warm weather that had left her without the standard turtleneck. Same uniform, new girl. Same uniform, different feeling. Same uniform, foreign landscape.  _ Same uniform. Same uniform. Same uniform. _

His overloading brain was silenced by her fingers raking through his hair, soft breaths in his ear forcing every other thought away. Diving headfirst into the forgetfulness, Archie tightened his grip on her waist and brought his mouth crashing back onto hers. Sharp nails gripped at his biceps, a quiet groan of approval forming in the back of his throat at the harsh touch. They continued to move together for several minutes, her body fighting with his in the most pleasurable way possible, until they began to slow.

He kissed her once, twice, three short times before they broke contact, her whole body shifting away from his as she detangled herself from him. They looked at each other in silence, their collective breathing filling the space.

“So? Do you feel better?” Cheryl finally asked, her voice a bit higher and breathier than Archie was accustomed to.

He thought about it for a moment, mentally doing a check of his body and mind. Where thoughts of anxious football plays and tense shoulders had been, there was now just a strong sense of confidence coursing through his bloodstream. He didn’t just feel better. Archie felt invincible.

“Yeah, I do,” he whispered in amazement, the corner of his lips tugging upward.

Cheryl nodded, a hand reaching up to his chin and swiping at the skin. The contact sent a shiver down his spine, and he followed it just a millimeter when it left. She held up her thumb, revealing a red stain her bottom lip had left, and it was only then Archie took stock of the way her cherry-red lips had faded to pink. Something primal in him stirred at the recognition that he was the one who took it off.

“Well,” Cheryl smirked, “Something tells me this is going to be a beneficial partnership.” She began to collect her things, all set to the side what seemed like ages ago, and ran her fingers through her hair. “I need to go clean myself up. I recommend you do the same.” She pulled a makeup wipe from her purse and handed it to him before standing, “Good luck at the game Archie. You’d better win now.”

She walked away in a motion that could best be described as a sashay, any kind of response he might have produced dying on his lips when the gymnasium doors slammed shut behind her.

* * *

Cheryl had no idea what she was doing. It was a stupid, ridiculous idea. A very stupid, very ridiculous, very sexy idea. Never in her wildest dreams did Cheryl imagine she'd find herself in a friends-with-benefits arrangement with Archie Andrews.

Not that Archie was her friend, necessarily. Friends didn’t only hang out in secret, didn’t only interact on schedule. But he was about the closest Cheryl came to consistent social interaction outside of the squad, and she wasn’t quite sure what else to call it. 

A full weekend had passed since their lunch period rendezvous, and Cheryl was still a bit jittery. The rush of holding a secret, she reassured herself, was the source. Definitely not the surprising softness of Archie’s lips or the heavy-handedness of his touch. 

She walked into first period English feeling as though she was being watched, her heart pumping loudly in her chest. It wasn’t until Mr. Durbin announced she was giving the class the rest of the period to work on their essays that Cheryl realized someone had been watching her. That he was walking toward her now, laugh lines curving in a confident grin.

“Hey,” Archie greeted, taking his place where Ethel Muggs had been seated seconds before. 

Cheryl gave him a nod in return, averting his gaze and focusing on pulling her essay notes from her backpack. 

“So,” Archie started, something teasing in his tone, “How about that game on Friday? You know I scored the winning touchdown.”

A small smile threatened to take vacancy on Cheryl’s lips, but she quickly averted it by busying herself with finding a pen, “Oh?” She feigned ignorance, as if she hadn’t been benched field-side for the entire event, “I wasn’t really paying much attention.”

“Yeah, I had a really good lunch that day.  _ Really _ good.” Archie grinned, leaning in so that Cheryl could practically  _ feel _ him. “What about you? Did you have a good lunch?”

Wide eyes finally acknowledging his presence, Cheryl did her best to remain unassuming. “I don’t know  _ what _ you’re talking about,” she said through gritted teeth, “I ate lunch off campus like I do  _ every day. _ ”

“Oh c’mon.” Archie made a small gesture around the room. “Nobody is paying attention. I’m just messing around.”

Shifting her eyes around the classroom, Cheryl begrudgingly acknowledged that Archie was right. Everyone was too busy with their own partners to pay attention to them. Still, this strangely confident version of Archie was unsettling. 

And maybe a little bit attractive, but that wasn’t the point.

“Let’s just focus on the assignment, shall we?” She asked, already shifting her focus toward the new conversation. 

Thankfully, Archie semed to comply, pulling out his own notes. “Okay,” he started,  “I think we should talk about the newest paragraph you wrote.”

Cheryl bristled. “What about it?”

“Well, it needs fixing.”

Cheryl frowned, looking down at her own copy of the newest edition to her argument in confusion. “What about it needs fixing?”

Picking up his pencil, Archie traced her lines as he read them aloud. “Perhaps one of Gatsby’s greatest errors was not in his belief that he could reignite the love of a woman through elaborate parties and excessive wealth, but in the belief that there existed true feelings of love to reignite at all. By pinning his hopes on the fleeting and unreliable emotions of an eighteen year old girl, Gatsby set himself up for a lifetime of misery and dissatisfaction.”

He set his pencil down and looked at her expectantly, as if he had just announced new information instead of reading her own writing.

“What about it?” Cheryl asked when the silence became too much.

Archie looked at her with just as much confusion as she felt. “Well, it’s wrong.”

Cheryl scoffed. “Care to elaborate?”

“You’re making the argument that Daisy couldn’t possibly love Gatsby because they met when she was eighteen. Her age doesn’t invalidate that emotion.”

“Yes it does. Nobody can fall in love at eighteen. Not really.”

Archie stalled, his eyes filling with confusion and something else. Pity? “Do you really believe that?”

“Do you really  _ not _ ? You’re the one who got your heart broken by knock-off Blair Waldorf. If anyone should be acknowledging the stupidity of teenage romance I would think it’d be you.”

“That’s not -” Archie began to protest, seemingly thinking better of it and huffing in defeat. “That’s not the point.”

“ _ The point _ is to present opposing arguments,” Cheryl reasoned, “If I wrote something you disagree with, then I did my job.”

“I guess.” Archie shrugged, his eyes trailing to the paper in front of him, scanning it as if it could provide him clearer answers.

“There’s only ten minutes left of class.” Cheryl mumbled, uncomfortable with the shift that had occured. “Let’s just edit for the rest of the time.”

The two of them fell into silence, a weird air between them Cheryl didn’t understand. It took every ounce of energy to pretend to focus on her paper, her eyes drawn like magnets to the boy in the desk beside hers. The adrenaline rush she’d been fighting all weekend transformed to nerves, a sinking feeling pulling at her chest. Why was he so upset? Was he regretting ever starting anything with her? Was he going to call it all off? 

Why did it even matter to her this much?

The ringing of the bell marked the end of the period, jolting nervous waves through Cheryl’s veins and pulling her from her obsessive thoughts. Archie immediately reached for his bag, his strange cold shoulder making her fear the worst.

“Hey Archie?” she asked when he stood, “I’ll see you at lunch?”

She hated that it sounded like a question, and that she’d spoken aloud about what she’d just minutes before chastised him for mentioning, but the smile that spread across his lips was worth it.

“Yeah,” he nodded, “I’ll see you at lunch.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for reading!! All my love, especially to those of you who have left comments <3 You are all so wonderful!


	4. oh lord save me (my drug is my baby)

Never, in a million years, would Cheryl Blossom have coined the Riverdale High School gymnasium bleachers as sexy. They were the place of mandatory pep rallies and dodgeball rejects. The plastic of the benches had been wearing away for generations, the tales of teenage desperation and rejection they held bottled up beneath them. There was nothing about the faded blue that inspired passion, nothing about their uncomfortable warping that incited arousal.

And yet.

Less than two weeks of “distraction sessions”, as Cheryl had fondly come to think of them, and those pathetic bleachers had become a hidden paradise of electricity and attraction. A single brush of Archie’s finger across her pulse point, a small whisper of his breath against her skin, was all it took for everything else to melt away. Who cared if each incident was preceded by some sort of stressor in Archie’s life? Veronica, football, whatever it was it made him want her, and it felt good to be wanted.

Of course, it wasn’t all fun and necking. The two of them continued to use the time to work on their essay and other various assignments, sitting side by side as if they hadn’t become intimately familiar with each bend and curve of each other.

Still, something had shifted. Their interactions were less formal, more interspersed with recounts of their days and the latest happening of the school. She learned what football programs he was hoping to get recruited by, he learned what her favorite movie was. There was a stronger sense of camaraderie growing between them, the kind she supposed had to accompany the vulnerability in admitting you need distraction from the real world. 

Nonetheless, they didn’t interact outside of their lunch hour. It was unspoken that their relationship, whatever it could be defined as, only existed within the confines of the concrete-walled gymnasium. It was safer that way.

Which explained why, while sitting in her study hall, Cheryl didn’t pay any attention when Archie walked up to the front desk and requested a pass to go do a few favors for Coach Clayton.

Instead, Cheryl stared out the window and rapped her nails against her desk, wishing nothing more than to be done with the school day. Her phone buzzed from the depths of her purse, and she carefully checked to make sure the teacher was busy reading the latest edition of Sports Illustrated before pulling it out.

_ Ask to go to the restroom. Ten minutes. _

She didn't even need to check the ID to know who the message was from. Her eyes widened at the proposition, pretending to feign indecision but knowing instantly she was going to say yes. She looked around the room at her peers, as if one of them might suspect the manner of her new plan. Of course, no one was paying her any particular attention. The next nine minutes were spent anxiously pretending to focus on her work before finally standing up a bit too quickly and approaching the front of the classroom.

“Mr. Jensen, may I please be excused?”

He barely looked up, handing her the hall pass without so much of a glance. She took it with slightly shaking hands, turning on her heel and releasing a heavy breath when the classroom door shut behind her.

It was only once she was in the empty hallway that Cheryl realized she had no idea where she was actually meant to go. Without a better plan, she started toward the nearest restroom, stalling nervously at each corner. She was walking past the janitor’s closet when a hand reached out and pulled at her wrist, whisking her inside and leaving her breathless.

“Archie!” She exclaimed, his hand instantly coming up to cover her mouth. She rolled her eyes, pulling his hand from her lips and trying not to focus too much on the pressure, “You scared me. What am I doing here?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” He murmured, his lips already tracing his way up her neck.

“Really Archie?” Cheryl complained, “The janitor’s closet? What a cliché. You know I hate clichés.”

He pulled back, Cheryl releasing an involuntary sigh at the loss of contact, and grinned, “I have a feeling you’ll make an exception.”

And then his hands were on her waist, pulling her flush against him while his lips pressed onto hers. She thought about protesting – it really was quite a pathetic high school stereotype – but the feeling of his fingers working their way beneath her crop top and his chest rising beneath her palm was enough to shatter any kind of resolve.

Her nails scratched against the wool of his varsity jacket, tracing their way around his shoulders and pushing at the collar. She’d grown to appreciate its sturdy material, but had found it impossible to enjoy the curves of his muscles with its bulk in the way. Archie’s tongue forced its way past her lips as she worked her way beneath the fabric, the cotton of his t-shirt scrunching in her grip. Her body swayed unsteadily as Archie pushed against her, the two of them stumbling and hitting a shelf.

Archie grunted at the force, the sound sending an unfamiliar tingle down her spine. He began to nibble at her ear, her eyes falling shut at the sensation. “So,” she breathed, trying to pull herself back to reality a bit, to remind herself of the limits, “What exactly do we need distraction from today?”

Archie’s hand moved to the back of her neck, the pressure he placed there heavenly. “Veronica,” he mumbled beneath kisses along her jawline, “keeps trying,” his mouth moved down her neck, “to be friends.” He punctuated his point with a kiss to her lips, filled with enough pressure to make her dizzy.

“How dare she.” She smiled against his lips, not an inch of her sorry.

They crashed back into one another, her fervor growing with each brush of his lips. It was strange, they seemed smoother than usual, and - “Did you put on chapstick?” she blurted out, watching as Archie pulled away and dipped his head toward the floor. “You did, didn’t you?”

His hands didn’t leave her neck, his index finger tracing gently across her spine. “It’s not a big deal. My lips have just been a bit… drier, lately.”

She couldn’t stop a massive grin from spreading across her lips. “And what, exactly, might have caused that to happen?” She leaned in, letting her lips stop just short of his.

“Who knows?” he responded in jest, a playful gleam in his eyes, “It could be the weather, or lack of proper hydration, or…” His voice got breathier with every syllable, a likely response to Cheryl’s hands creeping down his backside and sliding slowly around his waist. “Or maybe, you know, some other activity.” He whispered, blown pupils mirroring her own.

“Sounds dangerous.” Cheryl smirked, anxious to end the game but enjoying the tease too much to stop. “I wouldn’t want you participating in anything that could negatively impact your health. You’d better be careful.”

“Believe me, I’m trying.” He mumbled, his lips brushing against hers with every word and breaking down the last of her resolve, the two of them hungrily falling back into each other.

It wasn’t until she was creeping back out of the closet ten minutes later, pulling at the hem of her skirt and trying to calm her adrenaline-riddled brain that her own words came back to her, blazing across her heart like a warning sign she knew she’d already blown right past.

_ You’d better be careful. _

* * *

“Archie, are you even listening to me?”

Archie blinked back into focus, tearing his eyes away from the high hemline of Cheryl’s shorts and finding her face. Her lips were pursed in irritation, but the glint in her eye gave her away: she was flattered.

“Sorry, what were you saying?” He asked, a sheepish grin plastered on his lips despite having no remorse for allowing himself to be distracted by the view.

“I said, we’re pretty much done with the essay. I’ll have to go back through and do some general editing, and obviously we’ll have to get our citations in proper order, but other than that we’ve finished.”

Archie’s face crinkled, the meaning behind her words washing over him. “But the assignment isn’t due for another two weeks.”

She shrugged, “That’s what happens when you spend almost every lunch period on a book report. You tend to finish early.”

“So, does that mean… we’re done hanging out?”

Cheryl narrowed her eyes, a clear gleam shining through the slits, “What? Scared to lose me already, Archibald?”

He let his eyes drift back down to her legs, which seemed to extend farther than usual in her flower-adorned wedges. “I feel like I just started having fun.” He grinned, knowing full-well his response would make Cheryl want to slap him. She responded with a perfectly flirty eye roll, the casualness of her demeanor suddenly catching him off guard and forcing a wave of vulnerability to wash over him. “Plus, I’m really not sure I’m ready to start spending lunch outside of this gym. It’s only been a couple weeks.”

The teasing smile instantly vanished. “You act like the two of you were Romeo and freakin’ Juliet the way you pine, you know that?” Cheryl commented, a strange edge in her tone Archie couldn’t identify, “But whatever. I’m not going to kick you out, or anything. The deal was we’d keep this going until one of us wants out.”

Archie tilted his head a bit, as if that would somehow give him a better understanding of her words, “Do you? Want out?” He asked.

His heart stalled in the beat she took to answer, resuming at a slightly increased rate when she simply replied with a curt “no”.

He smiled at her response, turning back toward the lunch he’d brought in and eating a french fry. “You ready for the game on Friday?” He asked in between bites, “You said the Vixens were working on new routines, right? Are they any good?”

“They would be,” Cheryl huffed, “if they weren’t going to be performed by second-rate dancers.”

Archie turned his body toward her, “Is Veronica still not letting you dance?”

Cheryl nodded. “She keeps citing new reasons. First, it was because I was late to school a couple times. Now it’s my ‘lack of team morale’ – which is obviously ridiculous. How am I supposed to bond with a squad that has direct orders to shun me?” She crossed her arms over her chest, the planes of her face hard set.

“Why were you late all those times?” Archie asked, recalling Cheryl’s delayed entrances to class over the past couple weeks. He noticed when her seat was empty in class, when she avoided eye contact as she sat down, when she pulled out her notebook and stared at it for several seconds while collecting herself. He’d never given it much thought before, but, then again, he hadn’t really given Cheryl much thought before. Now, he was much more aware of her – of her red hair flipping over her shoulder right before she (correctly) offered an answer in class, of her lipstick as she reapplied it with the mirror she had taped to the inside of her locker, of her smile and how it shifted from genuinely happy to plastic in a matter of seconds.

He watched as it turned to plastic now, disappointed in the knowledge that whatever she would say next wouldn’t be the whole truth.

“Faulty alarm clock.” She shrugged, “Plus sometimes I get a bit too caught up in my beauty routine.” She grabbed a lock of hair and twirled it between her fingers, “I know I make it look effortless, but it takes quite a bit of work to pull of this level of  _ beauté _ .” She shot him a cheeky grin, her hand shifting from her hair to his, “I’m sure you know nothing about that, what with your natural boyish charm requiring such minimal care.”

Her hand ran through his hair before tracing down his chest, a single finger pressing against his breastplate.

“Wait, does it look like I don’t put effort into my outfits?” Archie asked, looking down at his simple tee and cardigan with newfound concern.

“Don’t worry Archibald,” Cheryl leaned in, close enough for her breath to tickle his chin, “I assure you you’re pulling off the minimal effort look quite well.”

And then he was kissing her, their movements easy in the kind of way that could only come from experience. Kissing Cheryl was a learned routine by now, but that didn’t mean it had dulled any kind of sensation that came from it. If anything, knowing what it felt like to have her lips pressed against his had only made his desire grow stronger, only made every interaction more intense. Despite her guarded and, at times cruel, nature, Archie couldn’t seem to stop himself from craving more of her.

He’d heard once that she was all fire - dangerous, scorching, and destructive to everything in her path. And now, with her fingers searing their prints across his biceps and her lips flaming across his neck, he knew he wouldn’t have it any other way.

If Cheryl was fire, Archie was looking to get burned.

* * *

Cheryl tugged her sleeves down further as she walked toward the field for River Vixens practice. It was a bit warm for the particular shirt she was wearing, but the bruise on her left forearm was just low enough to peak out from beneath her t-shirt so she was settling for what she had.

Her point was further proven when she walked up to the group of girls, all stretching and chatting in various tank tops and short sleeves. She found a space on the edge of the group and sat on the rubber of the track, beginning her warm-up by stretching out her legs.

“Long sleeves, Cheryl?” Rachel asked, “Isn’t it a bit hot?”

Cheryl grimaced at the reminder of the heat, beads of sweat already forming at the base of her back, “I forgot to wash my other practice shirts.” She lied.

Rachel nodded, her left arms reaching up and stretching across her shoulder. She looked like she was going to say more, but Veronica’s voice announced the beginning of practice and the moment passed.

Practice passed in a blur of high Vs, splits, and body rolls. Cheryl felt like she was going to pass out from the heat, but her body was buzzing with adrenaline so she pushed through. Her high kicks were higher than usual, her counts more precise. Even with the mild dizziness, Cheryl knew she was nailing the routines.

At least she was, until a whistle came from Coach Clayton on the football field and Cheryl realized she had essentially blacked out the last few minutes of the routine. Her body had kicked into auto drive, pushing her through while her mind zoned out entirely. Water, she needed water.

Fortunately, Veronica called for the end of practice just minutes later, Cheryl moving as quickly as she could toward her water bottle placed on the edge of the bleachers. She sat down and took a heavy swig, the silver metal of the bench burning uncomfortably against her thighs.

“Cheryl,” Veronica approached her, Cheryl barely able to contain her groan. “I noticed you seemed to fade a bit at the end of practice. Are you alright?”

If she’d had more energy, Cheryl might have mustered up the ability to be suspicious of her question. “Just overheated a bit. Nothing a cold shower won’t fix.”

She looked up to find Veronica nodding, a strange look crossing her features, “Be careful, okay? Hydration is of utmost importance.”

Cheryl nodded, taking another sip of her water both to please Veronica and because her throat was already dry again. Veronica regarded her a moment longer, before walking off toward the locker room and leaving Cheryl alone. If it were anyone else, Cheryl might be tempted to think she and Veronica had just experienced a moment of niceties. But Veronica only looked out for Veronica, so Cheryl didn’t give it too much thought. She was most likely just concerned about the personal liability if Cheryl passed out.

Recognizing that the heat wouldn’t do her much good, Cheryl dragged herself to her feet and trudged off toward the girl’s locker room. The air conditioning of the building was heavenly, and the thought of a cold shower was verging on sinful at this point.

She opened the door to the lockers and walked down the short corridor intended to fend off any indecent sightings, stopping just short of rounding the corner when she heard her name.

“- Cheryl’s mom. A total tramp. If you ask me, that whole family belongs in the loony bin. The crazy is genetic.”

Her heart caught in her throat as she registered Ginger’s voice.

“Really?” A small voice - Rachel - whispered in response. “Wow, I had no idea.”

“You want my advice? Stay away. Cheryl isn’t even worth your charity.”

Cheryl blinked back the unexpected tears collecting in her eyes, pressing her back up against the cool wall and trying to collect herself.

The sudden bang of a locker made Cheryl jump, quickly collecting herself as she prepared to round the corner. She almost instantly collided with Ginger’s shoulder.

“Watch where you’re going,” Ginger clipped. The hurt she’d felt just moments before instantly replacing itself with fury, Cheryl turned on her signature sickly smile, casting a single glance at Rachel before deciding a lost cause was a lost cause.

“Sorry Ginger.” She apologized, her tone dripping with false sincerity, “Have a great afternoon. Say hi to your sister for me! Oh, and her fiancé. I hear he’s a real stud.”

The color drained from Ginger’s face, Cheryl’s smile sliding into a satisfied smirk as she brushed past the two of them and further into the locker room. She knew it was a low blow bringing up Ginger’s sister, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. It wasn’t her fault Ginger had gotten into it with a local college TA, only to have her sister bring him home for dinner two months later. It also wasn’t her fault that Ginger’s sister was smart, prettier, and all-around better than Ginger. Ginger’s inferiority complex had nothing to do with her, but if she could take advantage of it for a brief moment of satisfaction Cheryl wouldn’t even hesitate.

Rachel passed behind Ginger, refusing to meet Cheryl's eye.

So much for that party invite.

The locker room cleared out quickly, most girls choosing to head home and enjoy a shower in the luxury of their own bathrooms, and after a few minutes of stalling on her phone Cheryl was left alone. She took a shower quickly, taking extra care of the bruise her mother’s harsh grip had left on her forearm.

She’d left her schoolwork out in the living room on accident, a minor occurrence that probably wouldn’t have led to much if it weren’t for the foul mood her mother had been in. The monthly bills were coming around, and it seemed they were only scraping by. Her mother’s patience was already grating when she came home.

Despite the cool of the shower, Cheryl’s circuits still seemed to be firing at all ends. She was restless, her whole body jittery. Going home seemed like the worst idea, what with her mother’s mood surely still on edge, and she was still seething from Ginger’s comments.

She pulled her hair into a damp braid and threw on a clean shirt and athletic shorts. Stepping out into the hallway, Cheryl contemplated heading to Pop’s or the local library to pass the afternoon. Across the hall, the entrance to the boys’ locker room swung open, Reggie and Moose stepping out in post-practice glory.

“I’m telling you dude, we’re gonna destroy on Friday!” Reggie exclaimed, a cocky grin painted on his features.

“Only if Andrews can shave that second off his sprints.” Moose countered, “Speaking of, should we be waiting for him? He’s the last one in there.”

“Nah,” Reggie replied, “He’s skipping out on Pop’s today. He said he’s gonna stick around for a bit longer. My guess is he’s feeling the heat, wants to rest a bit and then do some more sprints. C’mon, let’s go get some burgers.”

Their voices died away as they rounded the corner at the end of the hall, the two of them missing Cheryl entirely. She stood there in silence, eyeing the doorway they’d emerged from with increasing curiosity. She’d never been in the boys’ locker room before, never had much interest, but if Reggie was right and Archie was the last one in there…

Before she could stop herself, Cheryl took several quick steps and crossed the hall, her hand resting on the door handle. Taking a deep breath, and feeling an unexpected (but not unlikeable) jolt of adrenaline, she pulled open the door and stepped inside.

The room was an exact mirror of the girls’ locker room, and (mercifully) cleaner than she expected. She moved down to rows of lockers before she spotted him, sans shirt and clearly post-shower.

“Hey there, handsome,” she greeted, laughing a bit at the way he jumped and clutched his shirt to his chest. She noted with satisfaction how little it managed to cover his perfectly defined stomach.

“Cheryl! What are you doing in here?” He asked, a bit breathless from the shock. He began to unravel the shirt and moved to put it on, but she hooked the material with her finger and pulled it back down.

“That won’t be necessary.”

He looked at her in confusion, and then recognition, and then utter disbelief. “Here? In the locker room? What if someone comes in?”

“They won’t.” Cheryl grabbed the shirt and threw it into his open locker, her hand pushing against his chest and her lips beginning to suck the skin along his neck. “Pretty much the entire student population has gone home for the evening,” she murmured, smiling at the way Archie shuddered as her breath brushed against his skin, “Besides, a little jersey-clad birdy said something about you needing the extra workout.”

“Cheryl,” Archie breathed, his voice wavering as her nails raked down his chest, “This is dangerous. Didn’t you say I should avoid dangerous?”

She pulled away, enjoying the clear power she had over him as she watched his eyes expand with lust, “Oh Archie,” She teased, her hand pushing him back forcefully into the locker, “the fact that it’s dangerous is what makes it fun.”

She surged forward and he met her halfway, her whole body humming as his hands found purchase on her waist, pulling her closer to his body. Her hands explored the sides of his chest not covered by the locker or her own body, sliding from his hip bones up all the way to his neck. Snaking her fingers through his short, wet locks, she gave his hair a harsh tug, unable to stop the smile that formed when he released a groan against her mouth.

Without any warning, Archie’s hands tightened on her waist and flipped her around, pushing her back roughly against the locker as his mouth began to work its way down her jaw line. A needy whine tumbled from her lips, and she grabbed desperately at his shoulder blades, craving more of him than seemed physically possible.

In a swift motion, he lifted her by the thighs and pressed her against the cool metal of the locker, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. A thrill shot up her spine as his hands engulfed her thighs, her palms relishing in the feel of the flexed muscle of his arms. He grinded against her, the moan that tried to escape her instantly crushed against his lips. She moved to hook her arm around his back for better support, knocking it a bit too forcefully against his shoulder and releasing a cry in pain.

Instantly stilling, Archie pulled away and set her down, his eyes frantically searching for an explanation, “Oh my God, Cheryl. Did I do something? I didn’t mean to -”

“Relax, Highlander. I just hit my arm earlier and have a bruise. Don’t worry about it.”

She bit her lip, hating the instant memory that flooded back over her. The whole point was distraction, not whatever this was. Looking up at Archie, she ran a hand along his waistline, wordlessly drawing him back in for a kiss.

They’d just barely made contact when the locker room door slammed, both of them instantly jumping from one another. Archie’s eyes widened with panic. “The showers – quick!”

He gestured toward the separated area, Cheryl quickly grabbing her backpack and hurrying behind the wall. She pressed against the wall, its moisture seeping through the back of her shirt and making her grimace.

“Archie – hey man, what’s up?” A voice echoed across the space, “What are you still doing here?”

“Hey Chuck.” Archie responded, “Just… decided to run a few sprints after practice. Really trying to shave off the extra time.” Cheryl closed her eyes, praying that Archie’s expression was a bit more convincing than his voice.

“Cool.” Chuck replied, “Well, my dad just sent me in to make sure everybody cleared out for the night. The janitors will be coming in soon.”

“Yeah, yeah dude. No problem. I’ll grab my things and just head out.”

“Okay great.” Chuck responded, a silence following. She heard a bit of shuffling before Archie spoke up nervously.

“You, uh, you don’t have to wait for me. You can go on ahead.”

“What dude, you got something you don’t want me to see?” She could practically hear the grin on Chuck’s face, “You got a girl in here or something?”

Archie laughed, a bit too loudly and too late, but Chuck didn’t seem to notice, “Very funny dude.”

There was another pause, and then a much more serious, “Is that Cheryl’s purse?”

_ Crap. _

She’d remembered her backpack, but the small clutch bag she’d been wearing must still be next to Archie’s things. A black purse with an undeniable cherry blossom stitching. 

“Dude, are you and Cheryl...?”

“What?” Archie protested, “No way! Like Cheryl and I would ever. Who do you think I am? We’re just partners on that English project, she left it when we met up last. I’ve been trying to return it. Seriously though, Cheryl and I? It’s not like that. That’s ridiculous.”

Cheryl felt her heart lurch forward, an unfamiliar tug in her chest knocking the air from her lungs. She knew they were keeping their arrangement a secret, but did he have to call the idea of the two of them  _ ridiculous? _

Of course he did, Cheryl reminded herself, it’s the best way to throw Chuck off the scent. Admitting they were friends (which they  _ weren’t _ ) would only lead to further speculation. It’s best to leave it at a project.

She didn’t really hear what came next, registering just enough to know that Archie and Chuck had left together. Her phone buzzed a few moments later, and she looked down to see Archie had texted her the all-clear.

Grabbing her backpack, she scurried out of the locker room and got as far away as she could before resuming what she hoped looked like a natural pace. No one was around to see it, but if Chuck had just proved anything it was to expect the unexpected.55i

Archie was waiting for her in the parking lot, purse in hand. He passed it to her quickly, a sheepish look on her face.

“Sorry about that,” he apologized.

“Don’t worry about it.” Cheryl pulled the bag over her shoulders, “It’s my fault. Sneaking into the locker room was a stupid idea.”

“Yeah, but it was kinda fun, right?” Archie grinned, taking a step toward her and placing a placing a hand on her hip.

She stepped back quickly, crossing her arms across her chest. “Don’t do that. We already got away with murder once today, you shouldn’t push our luck.”

Archie frowned, “Is everything okay? Don’t worry Cheryl, Chuck doesn’t suspect anything.”

“And why would he?” She sneered, knowing her temper was beginning to boiling over but lacking the energy to stop it, “The very thought of it is too  _ ridiculous _ .”

“Cheryl,” Archie softened, “You know that’s not -”

“Like I said, don’t worry about it.” She stopped him, “It’s not a big deal.” She took a few more steps back, her heels begging to retreat, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

And then she was walking away, using every last ounce of restraint she had in her to keep from running to her car. Hands clutching the steering wheel, she pulled out of her spot and started the familiar route home, turning up the radio to drown out her own thoughts. Still, try as she might, the nagging voice in the back of her mind couldn’t seem to let go of one haunting thought:

Why hadn’t Archie tried to follow her? And, more importantly, why did she care so much?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for reading! And huge shoutout to @elegantmoonchild for beta'ing all of this. If you liked what your read, please leave a comment!


	5. (cause i know that it's) delicate

Archie pulled his textbook from his locker, slamming the door shut to reveal an irritated Betty Cooper.

“We need to talk.” Betty announced, her arms crossing over her chest.

Archie looked her up and down, trying to figure out what was happening. “Okay.” He threw his book into his backpack. “What about?”

“You’ve been avoiding me. And Jughead. It needs to stop.”

Archie sighed. “I haven’t been avoiding either of you. I’ve just been busy. There’s a lot going on, with college recruiting, and classes, and -”

“Archie.” Betty interrupted, her tone transforming from commanding to concerned in the blink of an eye. “I know things have been… difficult, lately. But, if anything, that just means you need your friends more. Let us be here for you.”

“Of course.” Archie gave her a soft smile. “I’ll try to make more of an effort.”

Betty grinned, her ponytail bobbing with happiness. “So… you’ll come to lunch with us today?” She asked hopefully.

Archie’s smile instantly faltered. “Oh, uh, I can’t.”

Her excited shoulders sagged in response. “Why not?”

“I’m just… busy.”

“Busy?” Betty sighed. “Come on, Archie. I know there were some issues with Veronica last time, but eventually you’re going to have to come back.”

Archie opened his mouth to protest, to insist that Veronica wasn’t the reason he had been reported missing in action, but forcefully closed it again with the truth settled just behind his lips.

The truth, of course, was that he was planning on seeing Cheryl. He might have been persuaded to appease Betty by making an appearance at lunch anyway, but today was important. For the past week, Archie had waited for Cheryl to appear in the gymnasium, only to receive messages about having to meet an extra credit deadline. But Archie knew that Mr. Roberts had a deadline of yesterday afternoon, so today Cheryl would have no excuse. Today, he’d get to see her again.

“Where have you been eating lunch, anyway?” Betty continued. “I mean, if you aren’t eating with us, you must be eating somewhere, right?”

“Uh,” Archie stalled, “I’ve been eating off campus.” He repeated Cheryl’s excuse, proud of himself for thinking so quickly. “What if… what if we just hung out after school? Just you, me, and Jughead. Like old times. Tomorrow afternoon?”

Betty nodded, seemingly satisfied with the resolution. “Okay. And in the meantime, you can make up missing out on lunch by walking me to class.”

Archie laughed. “We have class  _ together _ , Betts.”

“Then you have no excuse.” She beamed, linking her arm through his and propelling them down the hall. “So, what’s been going on lately? How’s training going?”

“Good - I set a new personal record on my sprints yesterday! It’s exhausting, but it will all be worth it if I get recruited. What about you?”

“Oh, you know, the usual. Really, I’m just trying to keep track of everything. The homecoming committee is trying to kill me, I’m convinced. I mean, it’s hard enough trying to get everything organized for the Jamboree, but the dance – I have to get a dress, and Jughead is completely useless picking out his own suit, and we still have to make dinner reservations before at -” she stopped short, her face filled with guilt, “Oh God, I’m sorry Archie, I wasn’t thinking…”

“It’s okay, Betty.” Archie reassured her. “I’ve had weeks to accept that Veronica and I wouldn’t be going together. She’s moved on, so have I.”

Betty stopped walking. “Wait, what do you mean you moved on? Archie, is there something you haven’t told me?”

Archie felt the air whip from his chest, his heart stopping shortly before starting up quicker than before. “No!” He blurted out, internally wincing at the over eagerness of his tone. “I just meant that I’ve moved on to… not being upset by it anymore. That’s all.”

“Oh.” Betty nodded, her tone unconvinced. “Okay.”

They entered the classroom, Archie breathing a large sigh of relief at Betty’s instant distraction upon finding Jughead already in his seat. Archie took his seat a few rows behind them (they had always favored the front row, and Archie was strictly a middle-of-the-classroom kind of guy), pulling off his backpack and grabbing a pencil.

And then, there she was. Walking in with her head held unmistakably high, black leather-heeled boots clicking across the floor with an authority that begged attention. He tried to smile at her but she swept right past, regarding him with the same cold shoulder as the rest of his peers. Archie frowned, telling himself not to give the interaction too much weight.

_ She’s just maintaining her secret, _ he reminded himself,  _ you’ll see her at lunch. _

He turned his attention back to the front of the classroom, watching as Betty scribbled in her day planner – no doubt organizing every last second of her day. Probably trying to find time to fit their future Pop’s date in between the Blue and Gold meetings and homecoming committee.

An image popped into his head, completely by surprise, of him walking into the homecoming dance with Cheryl on his arm. He thought about holding her while they danced, his hands resting on the small of his back while she smiled against his ear. He could picture her asking him to grab some punch while she ran off to the restroom to fix her makeup, even though she’d almost certainly return looking as impeccable as she had before. He smiled at the idea of the two of them mingling freely with his friends – of not having to lie to Betty and Jughead anymore. It was an unexpected fantasy, but its sugary sweet haze was disorienting in all the right ways.

Ethel Muggs erupted into a coughing fit beside him, pulling Archie from his reverie. He quickly reached into his backpack and pulled out a to-go Kleenex, holding it out for Ethel, who accepted it gratefully. He looked down at the tissue container in his hand, a memory flashing across his mind. Veronica, placing it in his backpack and insisting he stay healthy for the upcoming season.

She had joked about how he shouldn’t let something as trivial as a cold get in the way of his future Super Bowl award. Archie had laughed, informing her that it was a trophy, not an award, that a football team received.

It struck him how distant that day now felt. It was a moment that had once been filled with a soft tenderness, that now contained nothing but detached emotion. He recalled what he had said to Betty, about how both he and Veronica had moved on. Maybe those words were truer than he knew – maybe he hadn’t  _ just _ moved on. Maybe he had found someone new.

* * *

“Oh my God, Becky!” A shrill voice rang out across the classroom, causing everyone in Cheryl’s study hall to look up. Sarah Matthews was standing at the front of the classroom, her hands clasped at her heart and an oversized smile on her face. “You have a visitor!”

Sarah gestured toward the door, stepping out of the way as a boy Cheryl didn’t even recognize walked in with a guitar around his shoulder. Perplexed, Cheryl watched as Becky Stephens stood up excitedly and pranced to the front of the classroom, her eyes shining wide. And then, to Cheryl’s absolute horror, the boy began to strum the guitar, playing a slightly rusty version of an over-hyped pop song. Cell phone rules completely abandoned, over half her peers pulled out their devices and began to record, capturing the boy’s shaking voice for their virtual friends’ pleasure.

“Becky, will you go to homecoming with me?”

“Yes!” Becky screeched, her voice probably interrupting classrooms on the other side of campus. A group of girls toward the front of the classroom applauded as the couple embraced, forcing Cheryl to avert her eyes from the tacky display.

“Don’t be such a downer, Cheryl.”

Cheryl turned, already exhausted at the sight of Ginger’s sneer. “I’d rather applaud for an airplane landing.”

“Poor Blossom. Can’t get a date so she has to hate.” Ginger said in a sing-song voice. It felt strangely like taunting on the playground, Cheryl wrinkling her nose at the childish display.

“At least I’m not going to be disappointed by the inevitable let-down that is teenage romance.”

“Whatever.” Ginger replied.

Cheryl turned back around, her eyes instantly landing on the mop of red hair a few desks away from hers. Almost as if he could sense her, Archie turned around, his eyes scanning across the room and landing with surprise on hers. He gave her a small smile before continuing onward, landing in animated conversation with Reggie.

Her mind turned to Ginger, who sat smug in her supposed knowledge of Cheryl’s romantic life. If only she knew that not a week ago Archie’s hand had crept beneath the wool of her skirt, that Cheryl’s hands had gripped fistfuls of his hair. If only she knew the way her lipstick had all but dissolved in between their lips. If only she knew the way he had mumbled her name, the way she had whispered his back, Ginger wouldn’t have the confidence to be so smug.

No matter what Ginger thought, Archie was all hers.

_ Except he isn’t. _ A voice rang loudly in her head, its sneer reaching down to the depths of her gut and pushing at all the wrong places.  _ He doesn’t want you like that. And he never will. _

Cheryl swallowed thickly, as if drowning her vocal cords could somehow silence her mind. She stared down at her statistics book, her heartbeat working overtime.

She knew she was being immature in her avoidance of Archie, using an unnecessary extra credit assignment as her flimsy excuse to wallow in her insecurities. But, try as she might to deny it, Archie’s reaction to Chuck had thrown salt in places she didn’t realize were wounded. 

Cheryl wasn’t stupid, she knew what their relationship was. There was a reason they only met during lunch periods or after school practices, but never exchanged more than small smiles in the hall.

But there had been moments. Small, unexplainable inklings of something stirring beneath the surface. Like the moment when she was explaining how what their economics reading meant and his face lit up with understanding. Or when he tried to tell her a horrendously stupid joke but couldn’t stop laughing and just settled for letting his body shake in uncontrollable and silent laughter. She had a guess at what this newfound feeling might be, but she wasn’t foolish enough to give it a name. Giving it a name would make it real, and if it was real then she would have to deal with the truth: that Archie didn’t like her, he was just using her.

Instead, she settled for avoidance, determined to let distance make her heart grow harder.

She spent the rest of class that way, staring at her textbook as numbers and equations blurred together into incoherence. When the bell rang she was the first out of her chair, rushing into the hallway and toward her locker without a single glance backward.

It wasn’t until she was turning the dial in the pattern of her combination that she registered a voice calling her name, accompanied by a patch of bright red hair bobbing through the crowd.

“Cheryl!” Archie skidded to a stop in front of her, every nerve in Cheryl’s body set instantly on edge. “No headphones? Either you’re  _ really _ trying to ignore me or you should get your hearing checked.” He grinned at her with that irresistible smile, stirring up something in her chest she promptly extinguished with a flip of her hair and a final turn of her lock.

“Sorry,” she replied flippantly. “I guess I just wasn’t paying much attention.” She unzipped her backpack and began exchanging books, the relief of trading her textbook for a notebook instant. Archie leaned against the locker beside her, watching her as she worked. He smiled down at her, his gaze making her uneasy. “What do you want, Archie?” She finally asked, slamming her locker shut and turning toward him expectantly. Archie flinched suddenly, confusion digging into his brows.

“Nothing.” He adjusted his backpack strap, his fingers fiddling with its frayed edging. “I just thought we could walk to lunch together.”

“I can’t.” Cheryl sighed. “I’m busy.”

Archie’s smile faltered. “What? But I thought -”

A loud crash came from down the hallway, everyone turning to watch as a couple of Bulldogs wrestled each other against a locker. Their laughter filled the corridor, and Cheryl rolled her eyes at their egregious display of high school hierarchy.

“Better get going,” she declared in the coldest tone she could manage. “Wouldn’t want your comrades to see us together.”

Archie’s head whipped around. “Are you - come on Cheryl, you can’t still be mad about what I said to Chuck, can you?”

“I can do whatever I want, Archibald.” Cheryl felt herself flare with anger, hiking her backpack over her shoulder indignantly. “In fact, I think what I  _ want _ is some space.”

Archie faltered for a beat, a flash of emotions crossing his face. “What are you saying?” He stepped closer, his voice falling. “Are you calling all of this off?”

Cheryl sighed, making a strong effort to keep her face hard. “I’m saying I need time to myself. To think about how much  _ distraction _ I can handle these days.”

Archie searched her eyes, looking for something – anything – in them that didn’t look like remorse. She remained stiff, her eyes challenging him to protest. Maybe even asking, if she was honest.

“Okay.” He slumped, “I guess I’ll just… see you around?”

She nodded, a single hand reaching up to brush her hair into perfect place, “I’m fairly hard to miss. Best of luck at the game tonight, Archibald.”

She gave him a plastic smile of dismissal, watching as he turned and started down the hall, disappearing into the throng of students who were oblivious of her aching heart.

* * *

Archie stepped into Pop’s with his head hung low, feeling surprisingly vulnerable without the comforting weight of his letterman’s jacket. After the Bulldog’s epic loss the night before, Archie felt drawing any attention to his admittedly large contribution would be a bad idea. He knew school on Monday would be full of hushed conversations about how their star quarterback couldn’t seem to catch a single pass, tripping over his own feet as if his shoes were tied.

Archie, for all his efforts, knew he had lost his focus. He tried, he really had, but he just couldn’t get his head into the game the way he needed to. He was too distracted by the red-headed beauty who sat silently on the sidelines, her brown eyes managing to intently watch the game without ever giving notice to the fumbling quarterback.

Luckily, Betty and Jughead had kept their promise of milkshakes at Pop’s the following day, presenting Archie with the perfect opportunity to lick his wounds. He walked in to find the couple already seated a few booths away from the door, their heads huddled closely together as they spoke with backs toward him.

“… worried about him.” Betty’s voice came into focus. “When he gets here, we have to be nice, okay? Something is obviously going on.”

“It’s Archie.” Jughead whispered, “What could his problems possibly entail beyond a few faulty passes?”

Steeling himself, Archie took a few extra heavy steps forward and cleared his throat. “Hey guys,” he announced, sliding into the booth opposite them, “What’re you talking about?”

The two sat stunned for a moment, before Betty quickly recovered and shook her head. “Jug here was just threatening to get something  _ other _ than a burger.” She laughed, too easily. “I’m pretty sure it’s an empty threat.”

“Do they even serve food other than burgers here?” Archie asked.

“Uh… french fries?” Jughead smirked, “I have no idea I literally haven’t looked at a menu since I was seven.”

“Well, then I guess we shouldn’t bothering looking now. Did you two order?”

Betty shook her head. “Nope. We were waiting on you.” She turned her head toward the counter and caught Pop’s eye, who nodded without a word before disappearing behind the counter. “Pop is on it. I love local service.”

“Do you think maybe it’s a bad sign that we don’t even have to use words to order food anymore?”

“I don’t know about you, Arch, but I will happily eat the same meal at Pop’s for the rest of my life.” Jughead grinned, stretching an arm across Betty’s shoulder, “Fat and happy with a burger in my hand. What a way to go.”

Betty rolled her eyes, leaning in and placing a quick peck on Jughead’s lips. Something rolled in the pit of Archie’s stomach, an unfamiliar feeling of resentment toward his happy friends. There was such an intimacy, an undercurrent of intensity to their every action he suddenly found himself craving. When Betty pulled back and looked at him watching them, she seemed to notice whatever cloud had passed over his face, her own transforming in concern.

“You okay, Archie?” She asked.

“Fine,” Archie mumbled, glancing behind her in a feeble attempt to seem distracted at something other than his newfound jealousy. “Just hungry, is all. It’s been a long week.”

He watched Betty and Jughead exchange a glance, an instant and silent conversation translated between them. “Look, Archie,” Jughead started, a single hand landing on the table between them, “We heard about yesterday. It sucks, man.”

Archie’s mind instantly fell to Cheryl. How could they possibly know? Had someone been standing near her locker that morning?

“But don’t worry.” Betty piped in, interrupting his thoughts, “It’s not like there were any scouts there! You’ll be fine for homecoming. I know it’s not the same, but in theatre they like to say that a bad dress rehearsal makes for a great opening night. Maybe the same applies to football.”

Clarity washed over Archie like a cooling shower. “You think I’m worried about my football ability?”

“Well, what else would it be? We know this is a big deal for you. For college…”

“That’s not -” Archie began to protest, swallowing his words when he saw Pop approaching with their meals.

“Hey kids!” Pop greeted them, taking a moment to place their orders in front of them. “How is everyone today?”

“Just great Pop, thank you.” Betty smiled, all her previous worry vanishing in sight of the trademark Cooper politeness.

“That’s great,” Pop echoed. “Excited for homecoming? Betty, I hear you’re running the dance committee this year. How’s that going?”

“It’s my third year, I’ve got it practically down to a science at this point. Although we are having a bit of trouble with our banners coming in on time.”

“I’m sure it will be just fine.” Pop smiled, “All people really need is a good game and some good music to follow.” Pop’s smiled faltered a bit, his eyes drifting toward Archie. “Of course, we don’t  _ need _ to win the game. So long as everyone is trying their best –“

“I appreciate the sentiment, Pop.” Archie interrupted, “but we  _ are _ going to win next Friday. Yesterday was just a fluke. I got some bad news before the game and it messed me up a bit, but nothing is going to distract me from taking down Greendale on the field. You have my word.”

Visibly relieved, Pop smiled a bit wider and pulled the serving tray under his arm. “Glad to hear it Archie. Well, I’ll leave you kids to it. Enjoy the meal.”

“We always do,” Jughead called after him, quickly digging into his food as Pop walked away.

“Archie?” Betty asked, her fingers holding a fry she had yet to take a bite of. “What did you mean when you said you got bad news? Did something happen?”

And then, as if the universe was designed to taunt him, the bell chimed and Cheryl stepped inside the diner, her backpack slung over her shoulder and her hair gently placed in a braid. Scanning the restaurant for an open booth, her eyes met his briefly. He watched as they flashed with panic, her heels quickly turning in the opposite direction as she took a seat in the furthest booth.

“Archie?” Betty asked, turning to follow his gaze. “What are you -”

“I’ll be right back.” Archie cut her off, already scrambling out of his booth. “I have to ask Cheryl a question about – about our English project.”

He didn’t take time to hear what Betty said after that, his sneakers squeaking against the floor as he crossed the diner. He kept his eyes trained on the place where her braid met the nape of her neck, his heart rate increasing with each step. He forced himself to keep going, sliding into the booth seat opposite of her and catching her by surprise.

“Archie, what -”

“I’m sorry.” He cut her off, placing his forearms on the table between them and leaning forward. “I’m so sorry. What I said to Chuck, it was stupid. I was just saying what I thought would keep him from being suspicious, but I still shouldn’t have said it. You and I, it’s not ridiculous. I don’t really know what it is.” He paused to take a breath, searching Cheryl’s eyes for any kind of understanding. “All I know is that I’m not ready to give up on it. I need this. I need you.”

“You mean you need a booty call.” Cheryl responded.

“No!” Archie protested, lowering his voice when he attracted the attention of the surrounding booths. “No.” He repeated. “I need you. You’re my friend, Cheryl. Maybe… maybe even more than that. You mean a lot to me. Please, forgive me.”

He looked at her for a long time, watching as she sifted through all the possible responses, praying she landed on reconciliation. After what felt like an eternity, she shook her head. “I’m sorry, I can’t be with someone who is ashamed of me. Secret or not, I deserve better.”

She gathered her purse quickly, standing without warning and rushing out of the diner. Archie sat frozen, the jingle of the doorbell forcing the blood back in his veins as he suddenly burst into action. She couldn't leave. Not like this.

“Archie!” Betty’s voice stopped him short. Archie turned, a million thoughts racing through his mind as he registered his confused friends.

“I’ll be right back,” he assured them, too preoccupied with the girl who was slipping from his grasp to come up with an adequate excuse. Without another word, he left the diner, heart pounding in his ears as he looked out across the parking lot.

A sudden clang came from the side of the building, Archie’s pace picking up once more as he followed it. He rounded the corner to find Cheryl picking up the lid of a fallen trash can.

“Cheryl.” He said softly, causing her to jump. She recovered quickly, straightening her shoulders and facing him head on. Despite her strong stance, he could see the tiredness in her eyes, the glistening of sadness that had begun to collect. “Oh, Cheryl,” he whispered, taking a few steps forward on instinct to comfort her.

She stepped away so forcefully her back hit the wall, the anger that flared in her eyes like a dagger to his chest. “Don’t do that. Don’t try to comfort me. I don’t want your pity.” She spat the words at him, the final syllable filled with disgust.

“I’m not ashamed of you,” Archie started, unsure of how he was going to rectify the situation but determined to try. “I could never be ashamed of you. You’re Cheryl Blossom. You’re smart, and confident, and talented…” He took another step forward, careful not to touch her this time. “and beautiful.”

She refused to meet his eye, her anger seeping in to something sadder, something that made Archie ache in his core. “The game was a disaster,” he blurted out, trying desperately to change the tone. “Which was probably because the cheer squad sucked. I think they really could have benefitted from a fiery redhead.”

Despite herself, Cheryl cracked a smile. “The game was a disaster because our quarterback couldn’t seem to tell his left from his right.”

“He also can’t seem to tell his head from his ass,” Archie joked, relief flooding through him when Cheryl laughed. “But he’s trying,” he murmured.

Cheryl sighed, heavy and long, before looking at him with newfound softness. “I know you are.” She smiled sadly, her fingers reaching out and finding his. Archie’s heart flipped at the touch, his hand latching onto hers with a heavy desire.

“Can we start over?” Archie asked, his nose nudging toward his face. His lips hesitated millimeters from hers, trembling in anticipation as she took a sharp breath.

“I -”

“Archie?”

A voice rang out down the alleyway, causing the two of them to pull apart at record breaking pace. Archie’s eyes widened in horror when he recognized Jughead’s form coming toward them, his body instinctively moving in front of Cheryl as if to protect her.

“Jughead, what are you doing back here?”

Jughead’s eyes flickered back between Cheryl and Archie, “Betty asked me to check on you. It’s been a few minutes and she was worried. I didn’t realize I was interrupting.”

“Jug, that’s not -” Archie started, quickly swallowing his words as he looked toward Cheryl. “I mean – can we talk about this?”

Jughead set his jaw, nodding once as his eyes settled on Cheryl. “I’ll meet you inside.”

He turned and walked away, disappearing around the corner and leaving the two of them alone.

“Cheryl –“ Archie turned, surprised to find her already picking her bag up off the ground and smoothing down her skirt, “Wait, you’re leaving?”

She smiled up at him, but it was different. There was nothing genuine in it, no trace of the soft smile he’d come to know, “Why would I stay? This is clearly between you and Jughead.”

She made to move past him, Archie grabbing her by the shoulder to stop her, “Cheryl, can we talk about this? Please?”

“What could there possibly be to talk about?” She spat, “You said you weren’t ashamed of me, but clearly you are. You couldn’t even look Jughead in the eye. You basically tried to hide me from him! I can’t believe I was foolish enough to believe you. I don’t need a break anymore, Archie. I need out.”

She pulled away, moving a record pace toward the parking lot. Archie called after her, but she refused to turn around, leaving him no room to stop her.

He trudged back toward the front entrance of the diner, the entrance bell jingling as he found Jughead and Betty waiting expectantly in a back booth.

“Please, let me can explain –“

“Cheryl Blossom?!” Betty screeched, clearly already filled in. “Are you serious Archie? What could you possibly be thinking?”

Archie slid back into the booth, leaning in and lowering his voice so as not to attract attention. “You don’t get it. I know she’s been mean to us in the past, but she’s more than that. She’s just got a lot going on, that’s all.”

“Look Arch, I know you’re hurting after everything that’s happened with Veronica –“

“That’s not what this is!” Archie insisted, his voice instantly lowering, “At least, not anymore. I – I think maybe we really care about each other.”

Jughead looked at him like he was insane, “You think? Maybe? Archie, she’s messing with your head, preying on the weak. Can’t you see that? She’s the same venomous, power-hungry demon she’s always been, only this time she’s choosing to control you.”

“She’s different Jug, I mean it. This is different.”

“Is it, Archie? Or is it just another girl to pin to your wall?”

Archie stiffened. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Betty was quick to lay a hand on Jughead’s knee, a silent signal to hold back. “That’s not what he meant, Archie. It’s just – before Veronica, you did bounce around a bit. We don’t want you falling back into old patterns.”

“Are you serious?” Archie seethed, “What, so just because Cheryl isn’t a part of this exclusive group, she must be disposable? Do you really think so lowly of me? Do you really think I would just use a person like that?”

As his own words settled over the three, a harsh reality dawned on Archie. He  _ had _ used Cheryl like that. Wasn’t that the whole basis of their relationship? Hadn’t the whole thing been orchestrated for his personal benefit?

Cheryl had been right - she deserved better than him. And, now that she would probably never talk to him again, maybe she might find it.

“Listen,” Archie said. “I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you about Cheryl. The truth is, I didn’t know what to say. We were just starting to figure things out. And now, after the horrible way I handled what just happened, we may never have that chance. But either way, you two are my best friends, and I need you to start acting like it.” Archie stood up from the booth, giving his friends one last look. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go try to fix the mess I just made.”

Archie stormed out of the diner, dialing Cheryl’s number and feeling his heart plummet when it went to voicemail after only two rings.


	6. (starry eyes sparking up) my darkest night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this my favorite chapter? Yes. Yes it is.
> 
> Also I want to warn everyone to please re-read the tags. This chapter does contain parental abuse.

Cheryl made her way home, walking past light after dimmed street light in a total haze. A fog had started to gather on the ground, a marker of the late hour. She hadn’t anticipated being out so late, her night consumed at the library.

She’d been working on her college essay application prompt: How have you overcome adversity? It was a question that should have been simple for Cheryl to answer, but somehow the answer wouldn’t come. It was a cruel joke from the universe, providing her too many tragedies to choose from.

To make matters worse, where picking a tragedy was proving difficult, choosing a tragedy she’d actually overcome was proving near impossible. Sure, she was still breathing, but does merely continuing on count as overcoming?

It certainly didn’t help that her one shining light had been snuffed out by the cruel tragedy of high school social standings. Archie had continued to call and text, but Cheryl refused to let herself be so weak. The texts went unread, the voicemails deleted. She knew the smart thing to do would be to block him, but every time she went to push that button she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Yet another issue she simply couldn’t seem to overcome. 

Getting caught by Jughead had shattered the final frame of her illusions. In one ill-fated moment, Cheryl watched as reality came crashing through and slammed her heart directly into the brick wall she had been pressed against.

It was obvious from the way Archie quickly moved to explain himself that she had been playing herself. He didn’t care about her – how quickly he’d thrown her aside!

_ “Jug, that’s not -” _

He hadn’t finished his sentence, but he hadn’t needed to.

That’s not what this is. That’s not anything real. That’s not anything at all.

How could she have been so foolish as to think, even for the briefest of moments, that they could ever be more? She knew, when she had kissed him that first day, that he was still heartbroken over Veronica. She knew he was using her to fill a void.

Maybe, perhaps, she’d been using him too.

He was her own distraction, an escape from the darkness and isolation of her own life. Warm hands and soft lips, intended to crowd her mind but not her heart. That was how these things worked, was it not?

She did miss him, of course. The ache went beyond the absence of touch, deeper that the bareness of her skin without his hands to caress it. She missed his smile, his ability to make light of practically every situation, his blatant disregard for what constituted a healthy lunch. 

Despite the hollow feeling in her chest, Cheryl knew she had to stay strong. She couldn’t keep making the same mistakes over and over. No, instead she would focus on continuing to breathe, outlasting her high school experience until the day came that she could finally leave and let her life expand beyond survival.

She opened the front door of her home, absentmindedly noting how its dark wood felt heavier than it usually did. Completely lost in her own woes, Cheryl almost missed her mother sitting expectantly in the foyer.

“Cheryl Marjorie,” her voice slid down Cheryl’s spine, “what possible excuse could you have for being out so late?”

Cheryl turned, plastering a smile on her face as best she could, “Hi Mommy! What are you still doing up? I was just finishing up some school work and the hour got away from me.”

Her mother stood sharply, taking three swift steps forward and trapping Cheryl against the wall. “Do you think I’m ignorant? That sweet daughter act may have worked with your father, but it won’t work with me. Deviant child, you were meant to be home two hours ago!”

Cheryl looked up at her mother, who managed a higher height in her heels, and tried her best not to shrink into the floor, “I’m sorry Mommy, I didn’t mean to -”

“Didn’t mean to.” Her mother snarled, “You never mean to do  _ anything! _ That’s always been your problem, hasn’t it Cheryl? You’re all appearances, but you lack the Blossom drive. It’s almost as if you don’t belong to this family.”

Maybe it was the embarrassment of Archie, or the way Veronica had sneered at her at practice, or the constant gossip behind her back at school, or all of it piled one on top of the other, but Cheryl felt something inside her snap. “And what if I don’t want to be a Blossom, mother?” She stood straighter, relishing in the way her mother stepped backward in surprise, “Why would I want to be a part of what got JJ killed? What left father for dead? What led you to bed every filthy miscreant in town? Maybe I don’t want to be a Blossom. Maybe I want to be  _ more _ .”

It was a moment of triumph, Cheryl’s entire blood coursing with newfound energy. It felt good,  _ so good _ , to finally speak up for herself. Maybe this would be it, the moment in which things finally began to change for her. The moment in which she would finally  _ overcome _ .

But then Cheryl was on the floor, a ringing in her ears informing her that she couldn’t have been more wrong.

She brought her hand up to the back of her head, her vision blurred from a combination of pain and tears. It took her a full five seconds to realize that her mother had pushed her back into the mantle above the fireplace, her body now towering over Cheryl. Penelope grabbed at Cheryl’s arm, pulling Cheryl to her feet with such ferocity she was certain her shoulder must be dislocated. Penelope gripped her chin with such pressure Cheryl could feel it in her toes, forcing their eyes together.

“Now you listen to me young lady, I will not have you disparaging the Blossom name. Not while you live under this roof, under my rules. You are nothing,  _ nothing _ , without your father and me. We gave you everything, and I will not hesitate to take it away. Do you understand me?”

Cheryl nodded furiously, the thrumming in her ears growing louder at the rapid movement.

“I said do you understand me?”

“Yes!” Cheryl sobbed, praying with every second the ordeal would end, “Yes, Mommy, I understand!”

Her mother mercifully released her grip, Cheryl crashing to her knees in response. She stayed where she landed, doubled over and clutching her chest as she willed the tears to stop. Somewhere in the back of her mind she registered her mother leaving the room, heels clacking their way up the staircase and fading into deafening silence.

She didn’t move – couldn’t move. Time passed by in what felt like years, as Cheryl lay crouched on the carpet. Her tears, though silently, flowed freely, staining the carpet beneath her. The ringing in her ears eventually resided, but her heartbeat seemed to reverberate louder against her skull with each moment. She wondered fleetingly if she had a concussion.

Gathering her strength, Cheryl shakily brushed herself off and rose to her feet. Ignoring the mascara stains that had certainly ruined her silk blouse, she moved to clean the remnants of the fallen vase from the space beside the fireplace.

It was an heirloom, something that would inevitably prolong her mother’s anger when discovered. Cheryl sighed, defeated, collecting as many pieces as she could and walking them over toward the garbage can. She’d take it out in the morning. Perhaps that would delay her mother’s discovery.

She looked around the room, noting a few things still out of place. She’d have to deal with those in the morning too. For now, she needed to lie down and hope some rest would make her feel less light-headed.

Cheryl made her way upstairs as quietly as she could, climbing gently into bed and clutching her silk sheets close to her chest. She went to turn off the light but thought better of it, the idea of being cloaked in darkness overwhelming.

The early morning came and she was still wide awake, her restless mind preventing her from even the most basic of necessities.

Screw being strong. There was only one thing that could make Cheryl feel better, and she was determined to get it.

* * *

When the doorbell rang, Archie opened it fully intending to greet the mailman. It was odd for one to arrive so early in the morning, but not unheard of.

What he wasn’t expecting was Cheryl.

He swung the door open, surprise coloring his face, “Cheryl, what –“ Archie started, his voice faltering as he took in her appearance, “Oh my God, Cheryl what happened?”

He reached for her chin, Cheryl instantly flinching away at the touch. His felt his chest cave at the action.

“It’s nothing Archie. Don’t worry about it. Is your dad home?”

He continued to stare at the smattering of fingerprint bruises outlining her jaw, his eyes indicating there was more he wanted to say but his mouth choosing otherwise.

“No.”

He watched her face instantly release some tension, almost nodding to herself as she brushed past him and into the house. He shut the door behind her, his eyes quickly assessing her appearance. She looked… off: her hair pulled into a ponytail, her face free of any makeup that might mask the exhaustion of her skin.

“What happened?”

She shook her head, taking three swift steps toward him and planting her lips on his. He instinctively kissed her back, his arm hooking around her waist before he came to his senses and pulled away. “Cheryl, stop. What are you doing?”

He watched as confusion and hurt crossed her face, her body leaning away from him just a bit, “I’m giving you what you want. I’m forgiving you. The deal is back on.” And then she was reaching for him again, kissing him sloppily and hurriedly.

His eyebrows pinching together, Archie brought his hands up and pushed her back. Something was wrong – this was wrong. “I can’t let you do this,” he said, pulling her hands from his hips and gripping them in his own.

“Archie!” She yelled, the anger in her voice scaring him. Clearly it showed on his face, because she instantly softened, her face transforming into a seductive smirk, “Why not? I want it. Don’t you want me?” She pouted a little, her hand wringing free of his grip and tracing its way up his chest.

“Not like this. Not when you won’t tell me what happened to you.”

Her smile froze in place, sharpening around the edges and threatening to break, “Fine then. I guess I’ll be going.”

She turned back toward the door, taking a few steps away from him before he was pulling at her arm, “Cheryl, wait -”

She stopped moving but yanked her arm away, her face wincing with pain. He hadn’t grabbed her hard enough to do that. Suspicious, he reached down and held her wrist, pushing her blouse sleeve up.

“Archie, don’t -” Cheryl began to protest, her voice dying when he revealed a smattering of purple bruises trailing across her forearm.

Archie felt like he’d been punched straight in the chest, his voice a raging whisper as he continued to stare, “Who did this to you?”

He looked up when she didn’t respond, Cheryl looking everywhere except at him. He took a short step toward her, carefully avoiding the bruises on her chin as he cradled her face in his hands. He nudged her eyes toward him, and only when she finally looked up could he see the tears that had started to collect. “Who?” He repeated, softer this time.

Cheryl blinked slowly, a single tear releasing rolling down her cheek and landing on Archie’s thumb. She took a shaky breath, her lower lip trembling when she finally opened her mouth, “My mother,” she whispered.

His eyes widened, “Your mom? She did this to you?”

She hesitated again, her eyes flickering down toward their feet as she nodded slowly.

“Cheryl, I –“ he brushed his thumb across her cheek, “I’m so sorry.”

Something flickered across her face, her shoulders squaring up as a strange smile formed on her face, “It’s fine. It’s no big deal, really.”

Archie leaned back, his eyes hardening in a new way, “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” Cheryl asked, her eyes blinking away any remaining tears.

“That – that thing where you pretend nothing is wrong! You’re doing it now – you do it all the time! When someone irritates you but you don’t want to show it, when you come in second place even though you know you deserved first,” Archie gripped her shoulders, “when you try to hide how you really feel about me.”

Cheryl opened her mouth to protest, but Archie raised a hand to silence her, a fire in his eye, “Don’t tell me you don’t know what I’m talking about because I know you do. The problem is that I can’t read you when you do that. I know you’re hiding something, but I can’t figure out what. Cheryl, I can’t read you anymore.”

“Well maybe I don’t want to be read.” She said, “Maybe it’s better not to let anyone know any of it. Letting people close only gives them the ability to hurt you.”

Archie shook his head fervently, “It’s too late Cheryl. I’m already close. You’re already here. Please just, at least come upstairs for a little while? You can get some rest.”

“Won’t your dad be pretty pissed if he comes home to find me in your room?”

“He’s gone for the whole weekend. Something about an investor meeting, or something.” He looked at her, “Please.”

Cheryl stalled, clearly considering the proposition. He could see from the way she stood that she was exhausted – it was obvious she needed the sleep. Her eyes wandered around the entryway, clearly nervous, before landing back on Archie’s and faltering altogether. “Okay.”

* * *

Of all the things Cheryl thought might happen in her life, waking up in Archie Andrew’s bed was not one of them.

One look out his window told her it was still daylight, and another glance at his bedside alarm clock told her it was a little past three in the afternoon. She sat up, brushing the surprisingly cozy plaid comforter to the side and taking in her surroundings. She hadn’t paid much attention when she’d first entered the room, her vision so blurry and her mind so exhausted that any opportunity for observation had passed without event.

Archie’s room was pretty much how she would have imagined, dark blue walls covered in posters, trophies and old records lining an old bookshelf. Notably missing, however, was the boy himself.

Cheryl stood, her knees wobbling a bit as she got her footing, and she crossed over to the mirror on the closet door. Her eyes grew wide as she took in her reflection, panicking at how undone she looked. Oddly enough, she was grateful she hadn’t been wearing any makeup, as smudged mascara and eyeliner only would have made matters worse. Still, her hair was an absolute mess, and something would have to be done.

She was fairly certain any kind of grooming products Archie owned would be in the bathroom, so she stepped cautiously toward the door and took an anxious peek down the hallway. Finding it empty, she slowly moved down the hall, accidentally opening a closet door before finding her destination.

Much to her relief, the bathroom was relatively clean, and it only took opening two drawers to find a comb. She hesitated before bringing it to her hair, uncertain of the impact of such an oddly intimate borrowing, but one extra glance at her reflection as enough to convince her to begin brushing it through her locks.

It didn’t take long for her hair to settle into a softer kind of wave. It wasn’t an ideal styling, a bit less produced than she preferred, but it was a definite improvement. Satisfied, she exited the bathroom and headed back toward Archie’s room to gather her shoes before going.

The door was opened wider than she had left it, and she walked in to find Archie holding a water glass and a bowl of what appeared to be macaroni and cheese.

He turned when he saw her, a strange relief painting his features. “I thought maybe you left,” he admitted, his eyes travelling to the floor and then back to the food in his hands. “I, uh, I figured maybe you’d be hungry when you woke up. I know it’s probably not what you’re used to eating, but mac and cheese is one of the only things I know how to make, so…”

He trailed off, standing awkwardly in the center of his room. The corners of her mouth upturned at his behavior, simultaneously endearing and ridiculous. She crossed the room in a few small strides, taking the bowl from his hand and thinking for a moment too long about the feel of his fingers as they brushed beneath hers.

“Thank you.” She spoke softly, moving to his bed and sitting down with a clear space beside her. “I haven’t had macaroni and cheese since elementary school,” she admitted, “My nanny used to make it from an old family recipe.”

Archie sat next to her, careful to leave a noticeable gap between their bodies, “Well, uh, this is just out of the box. I hope that’s okay.”

Cheryl made a show of taking a bite, her eyes closing a bit involuntarily at the sweet influx of carbohydrates and dairy. “It’s perfect.” She grinned, quickly diving back in for more. If anything, the simplicity of its recipe made it better than anything Nanny Nina ever made.

She ate in silence for a bit, reaching out to the bedside table and taking a few gulps of water before either of them spoke. It didn’t feel like a weighty silence, but Cheryl could practically feel Archie’s impending questions hovering over them.

“Cheryl -” He started, almost immediately closing up again. It was obvious he felt something needed to be said, but had no comfortability broaching the subject. Not that she could blame him. If he had shown up at his door unannounced, exhausted, and bruised, she would have had a few questions too.

“It’s okay Archie.” She set the remaining pasta next to the water glass, “You don’t have to help me through this.”

“What? Cheryl that’s not – I mean…” He looked at her with complete bewilderment in his eyes, “Do you really think I don’t care about this?”

She shrugged, “I’m just saying, this isn’t what you signed up for, so I’m absolving you of all responsibility. Thank you, truly, for the sleep and the food, but this is my burden to bear, not yours. You shouldn’t feel obligated to do anything.”

“That’s not what this is.” Archie insisted, “Please, just, can we talk about what happened?”

Cheryl sighed, allowing herself to sink a bit further into the mattress, “What is there to talk about?”

“You’re kidding, right?” Archie huffed, an anger flaring across his brow. His frustration took her back, causing her to flinch an almost indiscernible millimeter. An uncomfortable silence settled over them, Cheryl feeling Archie’s expectancy eating away at the air.

“I can handle it,” she whispered, her eyes casting downward as she concentrated on quelling the sudden urge to rub at the place of her bruising.

“I know you can,” he softened, his hand coming across the space between them and wrapping itself around her own. She turned to look at him, his eyes filled with sincerity that was suddenly overwhelming. “I’m just saying you don’t have to do it alone.”

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, threatening to burst forth and betray her carefully curated image. One look at Archie’s wide eyes told her it was too late, he’d already seen past it all.

“I know… I know I'm not the easiest to get along with.” Cheryl started. “I just don't have… whatever gene it is that makes you likeable. That was all JJ. People would tolerate me because they loved him. They would respect me because I was a Blossom. And now, I don't have any of it. No brother to defend me, no prestigious name to protect me. I wasn't prepared to face life without those things - I wasn't raised that way. Or maybe I was just born wrong. Too soft for my own family, too hard for everyone else. It's like I was designed to be alone, but cursed to wish I wasn't.”

“You can’t possibly believe that.” Archie replied.

“Why not?” Cheryl shrugged. “It’s true.”

“No.” Archie said, his voice firm. “It’s not true. Cheryl, you were not born wrong. You were born just like the rest of us – you just got a shittier set of circumstances. But it’s those circumstances that stand as evidence to how incredible you really are, because, if you can survive all of that and still be the strong girl sitting in front of me, then you can do anything.”

Cheryl looked down at their intertwined fingers, flipping over her palm to reveal the smattering of bruises on her inner forearm. “I don’t feel very strong. I just feel broken.”

Archie nodded empathetically, giving her hand a slight squeeze. “That’s okay. You won’t feel like this forever.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because… because I’ve felt broken before too, I guess.”

A silence settled between them, Cheryl taking the opportunity to look at the boy in front of her. His eyes were fixed on their joined hands, his thumb rubbing absentmindedly across her skin.

“Archie?” Cheryl asked, her voice small, “did you really mean it, when you said you thought… you thought that love was possible at our age?”

“What?”

“When we were working on our essay, I said Gatsby was delusional for thinking love was possible at such a young age, and you told me I was wrong. Did you mean it?”

Archie’s eyes swooped upward to hers, locking their gazes together. “I did.”

“But how?” Cheryl prodded. “How can you possibly believe that after everything you’ve been through?”

Archie sighed, sadness coloring his tone. “Because I have to. Because if I wasn’t in love – whatever kind of love it was – then what was the point? I need it to have been love, because I need it to have been real.”

Cheryl felt her stomach drop, a small confession falling from her lips before she could stop it.

“It being real is what scares me the most.”

She held her breath as she looked at him, eyes flickering involuntarily to his lips and back up again. Her tongue reached out momentarily to wet her lips, before she straightened up and tore her gaze from his. “Well,” she cleared her throat, doing her best to dissipate whatever tension still lingered in the air, “Clearly your artificial food has gone to my brain. I think it’s best I bid you adieu before my speech devolves into complete nonsense.”

She stood quickly, searching around the floor for her shoes. She quickly spotted one by his bedside, but its sister seemed to be evading her eye line.

“Cheryl…” Archie stood up after her, matching her space. “Don’t leave.”

Cheryl paused for a moment, the vulnerability in his voice tugging, just for a moment, at an unfamiliar corner of her heart. She brushed it off as quickly as it appeared, distracting herself with the search for her missing shoe. “I have to, Archie.”

“Where are you going to go?” He asked, watching her as she walked around his room, turning in circles.

“I’m not sure. Thornhill, probably?”

Archie took a step toward her, stopping short when she brushed past him to look beneath his desk. “You can’t do that! Your mom -”

Cheryl spun quickly to face him, cutting him off with a sharp look. “What do you expect me to do? Never return there again? I’ve got nine months until graduation, until then I’m stuck.”

“Well, you could stay here!” Archie argued.

A dry laugh escaped Cheryl’s throat. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I’ll do. God, Archie, not everything is that simple.”

She went back to searching for her shoe, spotting it under the bed frame from across the room. She quickly crossed the space, leaning down to pick it before standing up victoriously. She put both shoes on hurriedly, turning toward the door and stopping short when she collided with Archie’s chest.

Fully prepared to fight her way from the room, Cheryl looked up to meet Archie’s gaze, her challenging glare withering at the sight of his watery eyes. She let out a soft gasp, shocked by the intense vulnerability written on his face.

Wordlessly, Archie reached forward to brush a strand of hair from Cheryl’s face, his hand lingering on her cheek. Cheryl stood frozen, unable to pull away as he leaned forward and placed a soft kiss against her forehead. A wave of overwhelming tenderness flowed through Cheryl’s veins, her insides twisting and turning as her heart was pulled beneath the churning.

Slowly, his lips left skin, his forehead tilting down to replace the contact. “Please,” Archie whispered, his breathing just as shaky as Cheryl’s imagined hers must be, “let me keep you safe. Just for tonight.”

A single tear landed on Cheryl’s cheek, though she found it was impossible to tell which of the two of them it belonged to. She felt her resolve cracking, every ounce of her resistance crumbling to dust as he pulled his arms around her waist.

“Okay.” She whispered, “Just for tonight.”

* * *

They stayed standing for a long time, Archie gripping her body like she might be blown away by the next draft to travel in from the hallway. It wasn’t until her stomach rumbled against his that he pulled away, insisting he reheat the makeshift meal he’d brought her.

A few hours had passed since that moment, and, while they had settled into a lighter tone since then, Archie couldn’t seem to shake the strong protective instinct that had grown. He found he desperately needed to stay as close as possible, to make certain she was still next to him.

He was doing it now, as they on his bedside with his statistics homework spread out between them. He kept adjusting, finding new positions that resulted in their knees knocking together or their shoulders pressing side-by-side. At the moment, Cheryl was talking him through some of the main lesson plans that would appear on their upcoming exam, and Archie’s fingers pressed lightly into her back as he leaned across the comforter for some extra loose-leaf paper.

“This is a classic problem, it’s almost guaranteed to be on the exam.” Cheryl explained, either completely oblivious or completely unbothered by his small tokens of affection.

Archie nodded, taking note of the page she had specified and jotting it down on the pages he’d grabbed. “Okay, great. Thanks.” His hand slid across her back to the curve of her hip, and he squeezed it lightly in gratitude. Cheryl squirmed a bit at his touch, and he instinctively pulled away. “Sorry, did I hurt you?”

“No.” Cheryl answered curtly, finding sudden intensified interest in the work before them.

“Is it…” Archie began cautiously, “Did your mom… hurt you? There?”

“No!” Cheryl assured him quickly, meeting his eyes for a moment before returning to his textbook. “It… it just tickled a bit, is all.”

He knew he shouldn’t, but Archie let a giant grin stretch across his face. “Cheryl,” He began, his words stretched and teasing, “Are you ticklish?”

“Of course not,” Cheryl responded indignantly. “That would be preposterous.”

His eyebrows shot up to his hairline, his grin settling in to a cocky smirk. “So, you wouldn’t mind if I…” He reached over without warning, fingers grabbing at her stomach. Her muscles retracted beneath his touch, shoulders jumping as she tried to free herself from his grip.

“Archie!” She squealed, trying and failing to suppress her smile. “Archie!  _ Ça suffit! _ Stop it!”

Her cries fell on deaf ears, Archie’s fingers continuing to find the sensitive spots of her skin. She kicked her legs out in her defense, which only succeeded in pulling her off balance and causing her to fall onto Archie’s pillows.

He followed her quickly, pinning her down between his legs as one hand prodded at her abdomen and the other fought off her own swatting hands. Cheryl wriggled beneath him, giggling uncontrollably despite her protests.

When Archie finally gave up his pursuit, he remained hovering above her, both of them breathing heavily from their laughter. Archie looked down at Cheryl, her eyes fluttering shut as she recovered. A shadow of a smile remained on her lips, her cheeks flushed with joy, and Archie suddenly found himself breathless for an entirely different reason.

“Cheryl.” He breathed, his right hand threading its way into the vibrant halo of her hair. Her eyes opened at his call, absorbing his gaze for a moment before fluttering closed again at the slight pressure of his fingers against her scalp.

“Please don’t,” she whispered, her lips parting with a shaky intake of air.

“Don’t what?” Archie asked, his thumb tracing the outline of her jaw.

She sighed, tearing her eyes away with considerable effort. “Look at me like that.”

Archie didn’t have to ask her what she meant. He knew exactly how he was looking at her. He was looking at her like she was the most beautiful girl in the world. Because in that moment, she was. And he wanted, more than anything in the world, for her to understand that.

“Come to homecoming with me.”

Cheryl’s eyes grew wide, surprise coloring her gaze. “What?”

Archie smiled, his own form of reassurance. “I know it’s not exactly a grand ask, or anything, but I’m serious. Come with me. Be my date. Let me show everyone how  _ proud _ I am to have you on my arm.”

Drawing her bottom lip in, Cheryl’s gaze remained steady as emotions flashed by in an incomprehensible show. Wordlessly, her hand reached up for his face, tracing slowly across his cheekbone before wrapping around his head and pulling him down toward her.

His lips landed softly against hers, eyelashes fluttering closed against her own as he kissed her. It was unlike any of the kisses that had come before – those had been ravenous, hurried, and, until this very moment, what Archie would have described as passionate. But none of them could compare to the earth-shaking, sky-shattering, all-consuming passion of this kiss now, as Archie pressed with the strongest care against her quivering, silken lips. It was like drinking from a fountain he hadn’t known existed, discovering a whole new desire he hadn’t realized was there. Every atom in his body flooded with affection, his whole being brimming over from this one, simple kiss.

When he pulled away, the room came back into focus slowly, and incompletely. Now, Archie’s entire scope of vision was overloaded with Cheryl’s eyes, Cheryl’s hair, Cheryl’s skin, Cheryl’s lips.

And when her whispered yes breezed across his cheek, Archie was certain he’d never see straight again.


	7. hold on to the memories (they will hold on to you)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this chapter didn't come out when promised. The truth is my priorities were pulled elsewhere. Nonetheless, here it is! The final chapter.

**** Homecoming came in an explosion of streamers and banners, the entire school transforming overnight into the epitome of school spirit, seemingly by magic. Of course, Cheryl knew better than to think fairies or elves had been involved in this dramatic set up. The entire cheer squad was recruited to help with decorations, spending almost five hours after the school day had ended on Thursday hanging up all the blue and gold decorations they had so diligently created the week before.

It was exhausting work, especially with Veronica at the helm, throwing little sympathy in anyone’s directions as she ordered the banners straighter, the posters flashier.

_ “It needs to be perfect.” Veronica had announced at the last of their many, many squad meetings, “This homecoming will be our legacy.” _

Try as she might, Cheryl couldn’t help but get swept up in the extravagance of it all. For the first time in a long time, she found herself excited to be a part of the high school experience.

And it was all to do with one Archie Andrews.

She walked in to school on Friday wearing her Vixen uniform and holding her head high. Passing by the homecoming table, Cheryl found herself admiring the ticket advertisements with a giddy feeling in her chest. Archie had purchased their tickets a few days before, presenting them to her excitedly during their lunch period.

She’d repaid him by pressing his back against the custodial closet an hour later.

Spinning the combination to her locker with ease, Cheryl swung open the door and stepped back in surprise when a single note fell out. She reached down to collect it from where it had fallen, looking to either side of her surroundings before opening it and grinning at the familiar, sloppy writing.

_ You look beautiful today. _

Eyes wide, Cheryl spun around and looked in the direction of Archie’s locker, rolling her eyes when she spotted Archie already staring back at her. He smiled instantly, red hair that had grown a bit too long falling across his forehead as he bobbed excitedly. It was all Cheryl could do not to run across the crowded hall and plant one on him right then and there, but instead she sent him a small wink and turned back to her books.

It had been her idea to keep the two of them a secret, at least until their homecoming debut. She knew it was risky, waiting until such a big moment for the bomb to drop, but Cheryl was also desperate to keep their romantic bubble intact, at least for a bit longer.

Archie, to his benefit, had protested long enough to be certain that this was what Cheryl wanted, before finally deciding there was still a bit more fun to be had in sneaking around. Upon Cheryl’s insistence, he’d returned to lunches with his friends, which had been moved from the lawn to the cafeteria as the late autumn chill had started to arrive, and Cheryl had taken to hunkering down in the library and trying desperately to finalize her college admission essay.

As far as Cheryl knew, the only person on the planet who even knew the two of them were friends (excluding Betty and Jughead) was Archie’s dad. Mr. Andrews had come home early from his retreat that night the previous weekend, and when he’d gone upstairs to surprise Archie with breakfast he’d found Cheryl and Archie fully clothed and fast asleep.

It wasn’t Cheryl’s ideal meet-the-parent moment, but Mr. Andrews had been understanding. Cheryl had a hunch that Archie explained a few things to his father while she was pulling herself together to go home, because when she came downstairs any sense of tension had dissipated and been replaced with a full breakfast of waffles, bacon, and scrambled eggs.

Cheryl shut her locker and began making her way to class, rounding the hallway corner and running directly into Veronica.

“Oh – sorry!” Veronica apologized instinctively, doing a double take when she realized who was standing in front of her. “Cheryl Blossom! How fortunate! I was just looking for you.”

“You were?” Cheryl asked, instantly set on edge by Veronica’s unfamiliar smile.

“Of course!” Veronica shook her head, as if it were totally normal for the two of them to have a friendly chat in the hallways. “I wanted to talk to you about the game tonight. It’s homecoming, you know.”

Cheryl pointed immediately to her left, where a bright yellow poster announced just that, “Yes, I put up the posters with everyone else.”

Veronica laughed, the sound forcing Cheryl’s shoulders to tense. “My point is, this is an important event for us, especially as seniors. So, I wanted to extend you an offer. An olive branch, if you will.”

“An olive branch?”

“I want you to cheer with the squad tonight. It’s only fair, you’ve worked hard.”

Cheryl paused, taken aback. “You… you’re going to let me cheer?”

Veronica’s smile softened, a perfectly manicured hand reaching out to gently cup Cheryl’s forearm. “I’m well aware of the way the Vixens have treated you. I’m also aware that such treatment is in large part due to my poor leadership. Unfortunately, even I can’t repair two years’ worth of reputational damage, but I can give you back a bit of school pride. If you want to, of course.”

“If? Of course I want to!” Cheryl responded. “But... what made you change your mind?”

Veronica sighed, “After Archie and I split, and Sweet Pea and I went public, I was forced to face my own… villainess reputation. It’s taking time, but I’m beginning to understand the extent to which my decisions have caused a lot of pain. Plus, I wanted to show you my gratitude.”

“For what?” Cheryl asked, eyebrows raised, “For sticking around despite being exiled to the bench all season?”

“That,” Veronica lifted her chin to gesture to something behind Cheryl, “and for doing what I never could. For making him happy.”

Slowly, Cheryl turned over her shoulder, her eyes instantly zeroing in on the familiar blue of the Bulldog letterman. Eyes wide, she whipped her head back around to Veronica. “I don’t know what you’re -”

“Don’t worry Cheryl, I think the two of you make a lovely pair. And I think it’s only right you get to cheer him on properly on his big night.”

Cheryl stared at Veronica dumbfounded, watching wordlessly as Veronica gave her a slight wave and began to walk away.

“I hope you don’t expect us to start braiding each other’s hair anytime soon.” Cheryl managed called after her.

“I’m looking for forgiveness, not a miracle.” Veronica responded over her shoulder, before turning the corner and disappearing in her uniformed glory.

* * *

 

Archie felt like he was living in a fishbowl. Everywhere he went all eyes were on him. Girls sent him smiles, guys slapped his back, teachers asked him how he was feeling. Every interaction went the same way: he’d smile, nod, and carry on with the appearance that he was confident in what he was doing.

No one wants to know when the star quarterback is afraid.

This game meant everything – to the town, to his father, to his future. College recruiters would be in the stands, and tonight was one of his best opportunities to shine. The pressure was a lot to deal with, though, and he could feel the hopes of the town resting in every passing glance and glittered poster.

He wanted to relax, to get away from everyone around him and to just breathe. And more than anything, he wanted to talk to Cheryl.

He’d been trying to find time to pull her aside all day, but it was impossible to find a moment where he wasn’t being watched. He wanted to respect Cheryl’s wishes and maintain their privacy, but it was getting harder with every second to not chase her down in the hall or sit beside her in class. He needed to be near her, to hear her reassurances instead of reading them through text.

He finally got his moment, not two hours before the biggest game of his high school career, when Coach Clayton told him to “take a walk and get his head on straight before the chaos began.”

His feet took him there without his head even registering the destination. The gymnasium was already decorated for the following night’s dance, with blue and gold streamers and cocktail tables set up surrounding the makeshift dance floor. There was really only one thing that remained familiar to Archie: the beautiful redhead perched on the very top of the bleachers waiting for him.

“It’s about time you showed up.” She quipped, following him with her eyes as he made his way up the metal steps.

“How did you know I was going to be here?” he asked as he settled down beside her, “I didn’t even know until I got here.”

“Well, I wasn’t certain about it, but I thought you’d need to clear your head before the big game. Where better than our own private hideaway?”

“Not private for long.” Archie gestured toward the decorations. “It’s going to be weird, sharing it with everyone tomorrow.”

“Yeah.” Cheryl agreed wistfully. “But it will still be ours. In ways they won’t ever understand.”

Letting her words wash over him, Archie reached around Cheryl’s waist and wordlessly pulled her closer. Cheryl leaned her head on his shoulder and released a soft sigh, the lift of her cheeks evident against his collarbone when he placed a soft kiss on her temple before resting his own head atop hers.

“Veronica is letting me cheer tonight.” Cheryl mumbled. Archie perked up instantly, pulling away in order to look at her with a large grin on his face.

“That’s amazing! How did that happen?”

“It doesn’t really matter.” Cheryl smiled, placing a gentle palm against Archie’s breastplate, “What matters is that I’m going to be right next to the field, cheering you on all night.”

A heavy sigh left Archie’s chest, his hand lifting to scrub the back of his neck. “Right. Tonight. No pressure or anything.”

Cheryl’s hand found his, giving him a slight squeeze of reassurance. “You’re going to be amazing. Totally and completely amazing.”

Archie nodded reflexively, pausing when he realized what he was doing. “That’s what everyone keeps saying. But what if… what if I’m not? What if I choke? Then what happens?”

Cheryl reached for Archie’s chin with her free hand, turning him toward her and placing a firm kiss against his lips. “Then we figure it out.” She said after she pulled away. “This is a big moment, yes, but it isn’t the end of everything. You are more than one game. You are Archibald Andrews, the most incredible man I know.”

Taking a deep breath, Archie leaned forward and kissed Cheryl again, a silent act of gratitude for her comfort. It was more than just the words. Simply sitting there, in their spot, with her body tucked beneath his grip, had brought him infinite peace.

He pulled her closer to him, his arm snaking its way around her waist as they sat in silence, soaking up a few final moments of serenity before she was forced to bid him adieu and good luck.

-

The crowd roared as Archie ran yet another pass into the end zone, the River Vixens immediately launching into one of their response routines. Cheryl smiled and waved her pom-poms, adrenaline rushing through her veins as she dove headfirst into the fervor. Archie’s smile was wide, the excitement of the crowd clearly working its way into his system and into his game.

He was on absolute fire, and with every good pass and successful play Cheryl couldn’t help but swell with pride. She could see in the way he stood that he was proud too.

The final seconds of the game were an absolute madhouse. The bulldogs were winning by such a large margin that the crowd didn’t even bother to wait for the final whistle, rushing the field in a frenzy of excitement and cheers.

The Vixens pulsed forward, running to the sidelines and embracing the bulldogs, pop-poms flying in the air in celebration. Cheryl, uncertain, held back for a moment as she watched the scene play out in front of her.

She watched as everything slowed, the roar of the crowd escalating to a buzzing as Archie’s teammates lifted him up for the whole crowd to see. He held up his helmet in victory, a grin so wide it was almost certain to ache fixed on his face. He turned his head as he took it all in, high-fiving teammates and pointing at friends he was too high up to reach.

And then he spotted her, standing just far enough from the crowd to be distinguishable. His grin turned to one of immense pride, and for a moment he was all she could see. But then the band roared to life and he was rotated away from her and everything came rushing back in full force.

Feeling a sudden rush of impulsivity, Cheryl started walking hurriedly toward the mass of people, pushing toward the middle of the crowd with considerable effort. The crowd only got thicker as she went, each foot harder to travel than the last, but she was determined.

And when the bodies finally cleared and Archie’s blue jersey came into view, Cheryl stopped caring completely about everyone else.

“Archie!” She called out over the celebration, barely waiting for him to turn around fully before jumping toward him and throwing her arms over his shoulders. He grunted at the sudden weight, his arms instinctively wrapping around her waist as he set her down gently. “You did it!” Cheryl beamed. “I knew you would.”

Riding entirely on her rapidly pumping blood, Cheryl gathered herself on her tiptoes and kissed him right then and there, congratulating him in the best way she knew how. She heard the voices around her change, from general exclamations to a much more pointed surprise.

She pulled away with a faint blush on her cheeks, wiping softly at Archie’s cheek before he was jostled from her grip.

“Archie, you’ve been holding out on us!” Chuck grabbed him by the arm, a teasing smile on his lips. 

“Yeah…” Archie replied, eyes never leaving Cheryl’s, “I guess I have.”

* * *

Archie took a deep breath, the slight tremor in his fingers giving way as he balled them into a fist and knocked gently on the ornate wooden door before him. His left dress shoe tapped anxiously at the ground as he counted one, two, all the way to twenty-three before he heard a lock sliding open.

The heavy door creaked on its hinges as it swung open, slowly revealing the girl standing behind it. Archie’s eyes scanned from the sparkly heels peeking out beneath the hem of red satin, shorter in the front than in the back, up past the pointed strapless neckline and delicate teardrop necklace to the matching scarlet of her lips, landing solidly on her eyes.

He swallowed thickly, eyes never leaving hers as he drank her image in. “You look amazing.”

Cheryl paused for a beat, a moment of uncertainty, before setting a smirk on her perfectly painted lips. “I know.”

Archie laughed, the air around him feeling decidedly lighter at her confident response. He held out the plastic box his right hand was clutching too tightly, presenting it a bit sheepishly. “I know corsages are more of a prom thing, but…”

Cheryl took it from him without hesitation, popping open the lid and looking down at the contents with a sense of awe. “It’s beautiful.”

Archie grinned, taking the box once more and plucking the floral bracelet from its packaging. Cheryl’s arm extended without him having to ask, and he carefully slid it on to her wrist. She took a moment to admire it, twisting her wrist ever so slightly in inspection. “White roses with silver accents, huh?”

Archie shrugged. “We didn’t really discuss colors.”

Cheryl grinned. “Well, in the future, know that I’m really more of a gold girl.”

“In the future,” Archie took her hand, squeezing it tight, “I like the sound of that.”

* * *

The car ride was short, unsurprising given how small of a town Riverdale was, but as Archie helped Cheryl from his truck – ever the gentleman – Cheryl found herself wishing they had more time.

She didn’t want it to be hard, really, truly, she didn’t. But she’d spent almost all day fretting over this night, inventing and imagining all the ways things could go wrong. With every step of her stiletto across the parking lot pavement Cheryl found herself more and more anxious, the urge to retreat overwhelming.

As if he could sense her dread, Archie placed his hand on the small of Cheryl’s back as they approached the stairs to the school. The small ounce of pressure reminded Cheryl to relax, take a breath, and raise her chin just a bit higher. She turned her head to look at the boy beside her, sending him a smile with a clear unspoken message.  _ I’m ready. _

Slipping her hand into Archie’s, Cheryl began the ascent of the staircase and entered the school. A few students loitered in the hallway linking the entrance to the gymnasium, and Cheryl did her best not to look any of them in the eye. Instead, she squeezed Archie’s hand once and continued forward, heart racing as the volume of distant music began to increase.

The gymnasium looked similar to the way it had just the day before, with the addition of darker lighting and at least a hundred balloons. A few couples were already on the designated dance floor, the rest chatting in groups or gathering around the snack table.

“Archie!” Reggie called out from across the auditorium, quickly separating himself from the crowd and striding toward his friend. Archie’s hand left Cheryl’s as he took a step forward to envelope Reggie in a bro-hug, Cheryl standing back and witnessing the encounter from the edges.

“Hey man,” Archie greeted him as they pulled out of their embrace, “How’s it going?”

“Fan-freaking-tastic dude!” Reggie exclaimed, words a bit slurred as a consequence of the poorly concealed flask in his jacket pocket. “We’re the kings of campus tonight, baby!” Reggie slung his arm around Archie’s shoulder, effectively forcing his back toward Cheryl. “Take a look, Archie. With that win yesterday, you can get any girl you want tonight. I’ve already got my eye on Ginger – she’s looking h-o-t hot in that blue mini – but other than that you’ve got your pick!”

Cheryl watched as Archie’s shoulders visibly tensed beneath Reggie, his body stepping away from the touch in an uncharacteristically awkward gesture. She held her breath as Archie turned back around and reached a hand out for her, Reggie taking note of her existence for the first time.

“Actually, Reg…” Archie started as his fingers slipped between hers, encouraging her to step closer to his side, “I’ve already got a date.”

“That’s right!” Reggie exclaimed, teetering a bit as he reached forward to grab Cheryl’s shoulder, “Bombshell Blossom! I did not see that coming.”

Cheryl gave him her best smile, gathering all the confidence she could as she pressed against Archie’s side. “I always was one for the unexpected.”

Reggie smirked, his head nodding in approval. “Respect.” He slapped Archie on the shoulder with a force that made him sway. “Well, I better get going – Ginger isn’t gonna wait all night. But have fun tonight you two. Remember to do everything I’d do!” He winked and then he was off, saddling up next to a scarcly-clad Ginger who was waiting by the punch bowl.

“Well that was…”

“Surprising?” Cheryl finished Archie’s sentence, turning to look at him as they both breathed a collective sigh. “If only everyone’s reaction could be that simple.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Archie asserted, his left hand lifting to rub against her arm. “We’re here to have fun, right?”

Cheryl nodded, doing her best to reassure herself. “Right.”

Archie smiled, pulling her close and pressing a soft kiss against her forehead.

“Archie? Cheryl?” A hesitant voice cut across the music, the two of them pulling away to find a nervous-looking Betty Cooper standing a few feet away. Archie’s hand came to Cheryl’s back protectively, his voice hardening just a bit as he responded.

“Betty. Where’s Jughead?”

“He’s scouting the snack table.” She looked like she wanted to laugh at that, but instead offered only a gentle step toward them. “You look beautiful, Cheryl.”

“Yes. She does.” Cheryl was surprised when Archie answered for her, his cool tone cutting through the conversation.

Betty frowned. “Archie,” she started, taking a heavy breath before continuing, “I’m so sorry. Jug and I had no right to say the things we did. We just want you to be happy, you know that right?” She turned to smile at Cheryl. “And who are we to stand in between what makes you both happy?”

Cheryl smiled, a nearly indistinguishable shift passing between them. “Thank you, cousin.”

Archie nodded, never leaving Cheryl’s side. “Thank you, Betty.”

A beat passed, before Betty gave the both of them a slightly less strained smile and turned away, presumably in search of her boyfriend and his bottomless appetite.

“You okay?” Cheryl asked, registering Archie’s thousand-yard stare and trying to pull him back to the foot between them.

At the sound of her voice, he seemed to snap back to the moment. “Of course.” He shook his head. “How about we dance?”

Before she could say another word, Archie pulled her out onto the dance floor and twirled her quickly into place. A squeal escaped Cheryl’s lips, instantly dying out as Archie pulled her flush against his chest, one hand finding the small of her back while the other linked with hers.

“Archie!” Cheryl laughed at the formal positioning. “This isn’t a slow song!”

Archie did his best to contort his face into faux-confusion. “It isn’t? Huh, well I guess we’ll just have to slow dance really fast!” He started jauntily moving his feet and spinning them around, effectively dancing an awkward waltz at an accelerated pace. Cheryl laughed at his awkward pacing, going along with it as best she could. When the song ended, it mercifully gave way to a slower paced piece. They slowed quickly, the two of them swaying together without much effort.

“You know, one day I’ll have to show you how to  _ actually  _ dance.” Cheryl commented, taking the lead for a moment and stepping them out of the way of a particularly loud gaggle of sophomores.

“I have no idea what you mean.” Archie joked, his grin completely contradicting his words. Cheryl rolled her eyes at his response, the two of them settling into comfortable silence as more couples began to gather around them.

Cheryl’s eyes traced the planes of Archie’s face, taking a moment to observe each intimate detailing. Her thumb reached up and brushed against the edge of his chin, stopping short when it crossed over a patch of stubble must have missed shaving. She smiled, more to herself than to him, at the image of Archie shaving earlier in the evening, his tux most likely sprawled lazily across his comforter while some level of cheesy pop song blared in the background.

Her forefinger skimmed across the curve of his bow tie, before pinching it between her fingers and adjusting it slightly.

“It’s the same one.”

Cheryl snapped out of her reverie, looking up at Archie in confusion. “What?”

“The bow tie. It’s the same one I wore to the tree-tapping ceremony sophomore year.” He smiled softly at her, the look tempting her to melt right into the floor. “I figured it could use a second chance.”

Looking back down at the tie, Cheryl held it a pinch tighter as she flashed back toward that night. Archie had been so kind to her that week, as he had always been, and Cheryl had taken all the wrong cues from his behavior. That Cheryl, broken and hesitant and longing for any kind of comfort, had no idea what it would actually be like. How amazing it would feel to kiss Archie and actually have him kiss her back, to confess to him her troubles and be open about her fears. That Cheryl thought glossy perfection was the key to her happiness. But this Cheryl knew, it was all about sloppy lunches and heated debates and simply being held.

“Archie?” Cheryl asked, not even having to look up to know that she already had his attention. “Betty was right.”

“What do you mean?”

“You make me so very happy.”

The final notes of the song began to play, Archie leaning in closer with each beat. His lips hovered just above hers, a breath away as he whispered a final sentiment before kissing her. “That’s all I could ever ask for.”

* * *

They ended up leaving early. It wasn’t that they were having a bad time – quite the contrary. Though there was definitely a new social element the two wouldn’t be able to resolve in just one night, being able to simply be together was freeing. And, Archie found out, a pretty big turn on.

Which explained why they were currently parked on an empty street a block away from Thornhill, the driver’s seat pushed as far back as it would go as Cheryl straddled Archie’s lap and kissed him hard.

Every ounce of pent up affection they’d been holding back in the gymnasium’s public eye came pouring out on that darkened street, the two of them having barely made it to a private enough location before Archie crashed the car from distraction.

Now, with the car safely in park and the keys tossed onto the passenger seat, Archie’s hands were free to wander across every inch of skin as he craved it. Cheryl’s voluminous skirt was hiked up well past mid-thigh, exposing the smooth length of her impeccably toned legs. Her muscles rippled beneath his touch, tightening and releasing as she greedily moved up and down against him. Her tongue snaked into his mouth and her fingers raked into his hair, the sensations of both almost completely overriding his brain as he fought back the desire to rip her dress in half right then and there.

His lips pushed harder against hers, hurried and sloppy and fevered with desire. His body screamed as her fresh manicure left his hair and began to rake its way up the side of his chest, shivers shooting down his back as she passed rib after rib at a painstaking pace. Without warning, her lips suddenly pulled back from his and her movement against him slowed, a sensual smirk crossing her lips as she took in his heaving chest and hooded eyes.

“I like you like this.” Her voice rumbled, a finger pressing against his lips to stop him when he tried to move toward her. She bit her lip and giggled when he slumped backward, looking him dead in the eyes as she rolled slowly against him once, twice. A noise that could only be described as a growl escaped Archie’s throat.

“Maybe we should move to the backseat?” Cheryl asked, impossibly long eyelashes fluttering over lust-blown pupils.

“God yes.” Archie breathed, chest heaving as Cheryl grinned and began to move off of him. The sudden distance providing him unwelcome clarity, Archie groaned and reluctantly reached out to grab Cheryl’s wrist, forcing her back down to his lap. “But we can’t. If I don’t get home soon my dad will know something’s up. Besides,” Archie reached up and brushed a lock of hair behind Cheryl’s ear, “there’ll be plenty of time for that later.”

Sighing, Cheryl hiked herself back off of Archie’s lap and back into the passenger’s seat, tossing the keys toward him. She pulled down the car’s visor and assessed her makeup in the mirror. Satisfied with her appearance, she turned back toward him and smiled. “Okay loverboy, take me home.”

The drive back toward Thornhill took all of one minute, Archie’s car coming back into park entirely too soon. “You sure I can’t walk you inside?” Archie asked for the second time, his eyes wandering nervously up toward the grand doorway.

“I’m sure.” Cheryl reassured him, her hand reaching to cover his as it rested on the gear shift. “I think my mother might be home by now.”

“Now I really want to walk you to the door.”

“Archie,” Cheryl whispered softly, “We’ve talked about this. You can’t swoop in and fix everything for me. But you can make it all a lot easier.”

Archie flipped his hand so it was palm side up and squeezed hers tightly. “It doesn’t feel like enough.”

Cheryl just smiled, leaning across the center and kissing him softly. “It’s more than enough.” She whispered. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

She waited expectantly for a beat as Archie fought his instinct to fight back. The only thing that stopped him was the steady calm in Cheryl’s eyes, the distinctly controlled power he saw there that reminded him she wasn’t a girl meant to be saved. He kissed her again, just as soft. 

“See you tomorrow.”

* * *

Cheryl tapped her sandal against hard surface of Archie’s doorstep, the cool April breeze causing her to wrap her jacket tighter around her center and regret trusting the full sun to warm her up.

The door opened suddenly, Mr. Andrews wiping his hands on a kitchen towel as he gestured her inside. “Hey Cheryl! I was just putting dinner in the oven. Why don’t you head on upstairs and let Arch know it’ll be about twenty minutes?”

“Sounds great Mr. Andrews.” Cheryl smiled, stepping past him and toward the staircase.

“Cheryl,” Mr. Andrews stopped her, causing Cheryl to turn, “You’ve been dating my son for a couple months now, I told you to call me Fred.”

Cheryl grinned, nodding once before turning back around and continuing her ascent. She could hear Mr. Andrews - Fred, she corrected herself - start cleaning dishes in the kitchen below as she reached Archie’s door. Already slightly ajar, Cheryl pushed the door fully open to reveal Archie seated on his bed, hunched over his guitar and scribbling intently in a journal. 

“Hi there.” She whispered, sitting down behind him and wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

Archie smiled, turning his head slightly to rest his head against hers. “Hey.”

“How’s the song coming?”

“Good, I think.” Archie sighed, scribbling another word down onto the clearly overcrowded page. “I’m just trying to get as much out as I can before the big move. I won’t have much time for music when training starts.”

Cheryl nodded, looking up at the green and white pennant postered above his desk with “Sacramento State Hornets” emblazoned across the front. “Still feeling good about moving all the way to California?”

“I think so.” Archie set down his guitar, turning to face her. “I mean, the scholarship was too good to refuse. And it’s a really great program. But I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t all a bit nerve-wracking. I’m gonna miss the small town, I think.” His reached out and intertwined her fingers with his. “And you. I’ll definitely miss you.”

Cheryl smiled softly, hand coming up to cup his jawline in a moment of affection. She kissed him once, quickly, before straightening her spine and pulling a folded-up letter from her pocket. “Well,” she cleared her throat, “I actually have some news about that.”

Taking a deep breath, Cheryl held out the paper, eyes watching intently as Archie looked at her and then down at the unexpected envelope. 

“Is this…?”

“Just read it.” Cheryl prompted, unfolding the letter for him before dropping it in his lap.

Tentatively, Archie picked up the paper, eyeing Cheryl one last time before beginning to read out loud. 

“‘Dear Cheryl, Congratulations! It is with great pleasure that I offer you admission to the Stanford University Class of 2024…’”

“Well?” Cheryl asked hesitantly, “What do you think?”

Archie laughed, eyes suddenly glassy. “What do I think? I think - Cheryl, I can’t believe it!” He lunged forward, engulfing Cheryl in his arms and effectively crumpling the letter in his excitement. “I’m so happy for you.” His voice rumbled against her skin.

Cheryl pressed further against him, surprised to find tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. “It’s still two hours away, you know. Don’t get too excited.”

Pulling back, Archie gave Cheryl a sobering look. “This isn’t about that. I mean - I’m obviously happy to be closer to you, but that isn’t why I’m happy. Cheryl, I’m happy because you  _ earned _ this. You’ve worked so hard, overcome so much. And I am so,  _ so proud _ of you.”

No longer able to resist, a few uncontrollable tears leaked out of Cheryl’s eyes. “Thank you.”

Leaning forward, Cheryl pressed her lips against Archie’s, hand resting simply against his chest. Slowly, she parted her lips, taking in a shaky breath before releasing three quiet words into the millimeters of space between them.

“What?” Archie asked, “Did you just -”

“I love you.” Cheryl repeated, louder and more assured than the first time. “I love you, Archibald Andrews.”

“I love you too.” Archie returned hastily, the surprise and excitement bubbling uncontrollably to the surface. “I love you so, so much.” 

Grabbing the sides of her face with both hands, Archie brought her in for a hurried kiss, barely able to make significant contact through his smile. 

Just as Cheryl’s hands wrapped around his waist, a large crash came from the floor below, followed by a loud exclamation. 

Jumping back, Archie rolled his eyes at the interruption. “You’d think by now my dad would be capable of making dinner without injuring himself.”

“His timing is truly atrocious.” Cheryl smiled, placing an extra kiss on Archie’s lips. “Come on,” she laughed, “let’s go save him before he burns the house down.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're reading this, thank you. This story was a huge project for me, and took a lot of time and energy on my part. You, dear reader, are so wonderful for choosing to invest *your* time and energy into it. I hope I managed to bring you a bit of entertainment with this small ship <3
> 
> With all my heart, thank you.


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